Gemini Dazzle
by Gorseclaw
Summary: Ever since a strange dream two years ago, Kimberly Kirkley has been obsessed with Digimon. She teams up with Gen, a prodigy of the computer, to discover the truth behind her dream.
1. Digital Girl

**Chapter 1**

**Digital Girl**

Uchimon sat on the shore, basking in Sunset Beach's perpetual twilight. He gnawed on a large seashell, trying his best to carve a picture into it. It was a way to pass the time.

There was always peace and sanctuary in the Gatekeeper's private domain, mostly because it didn't allow any other Digimon in. Uchimon, by virtue of his innocence, was allowed a unique privilege in living here, but secretly, he wished to get out, see the world, and experience first hand the exciting life he had heard most other Digimon lived. Or failing that, perhaps run off with some humans. Humans hadn't passed through for years, but it was hard to keep track of time on the Sunset Beach. Uchimon was sure some would come eventually.

He looked at the seashell, a large pink and white spiral, that had once belonged to a Real World creature called a conch. What a mess! His attempt at engraving looked utterly messed up. He pushed it seawards with his nose, until it was swept up by the surf.

--------

"She really said that to her, did she?"

Allen Kirkley was beginning to worry about his daughter. No, not beginning. He'd always worried about her. But now his fears were coming true. He looked over the paper in his hands; the one the teacher had helpfully given him; one more time, then looked up at the woman.

She might have been attractive once, but now she seemed a little wasted, with cherry red lipstick on wrinkled lips, and her expression made her look like a bit of a shrew. She seemed to look over her lower eyelids at him, as if he were a student. Her brown hair was cropped short, perhaps to showcase a pair of elaborate gold earrings. She leaned on the table with her fingers steepled. Every time she spoke, she tapped her two index fingers together, and her long glossy nails clicked softly. She probably got manicured in her spare time. _Oh good grief,_ Allen thought, _Am I really that desperate to replace Camilla? I'm sizing up every woman I meet!_

"I'm afraid Kimberly's classmates are singling her out," the teacher confirmed. In his current state of mind, Allen cringed as she said 'single'. "She reacts vehemently to their ridicule, which only encourages them. Even so, she has refused my help. If the problem is left to your daughter alone, I believe it will never be resolved."

Allan waited, and when she didn't continue, ventured to speak, "So, what you want me to do to stop the teasing is… not stop the kids responsible… but try and get Kim to change her…behavior… by any means necessary?" He waved the slip of paper vaguely.

The teacher smiled shallowly, and, like clockwork, clicked her fingernails. "Exactly. Though she doesn't show it, I believe your daughter is very deeply affected by this teasing. But since she isn't changing the behavior that causes the teasing, even when advised by a teacher, this is when you, her father, should step in and give her a little guidance. And if necessary, set her up for some professional assistance."

"…The councilor who's name you wrote on the paper. I hate to say it, since you've been so helpful, but I'm reluctant to put my kid in the hands of a complete stranger. Still, I'm not the expert, so if we have to I'll put the question to Kim." He tried to speak politely. Allen had never trusted councilors and therapists because of the way they, like teachers, would talk so coldly about people's emotions, and interfere so effortlessly in people's affairs. It was a little piece of naïveté left over from his heydays.

Instead of tapping her fingers, the teacher picked up a stack of paper and straightened it against the tabletop. "I think that will be all. Thank you for your time, Mr. Kirkley. And good luck in finding a wife."

Allen flinched again in the process of standing up. _Good grief! How did she hear about that!_

--------

Half an hour later, Kimberly Kirkley came home. Allen had only just gotten back as well, having returned to the office after the meeting. He had just opened the freezer when he heard the door slam and a high young voice start up.

"Be gentle when you close the door," Allen admonished automatically.

Kimberly rounded the corner into the kitchen. She was wearing a shapeless light gray sweatshirt that was much too big for her, the sleeves held up with barrettes. A pair of black shorts barely showed from beneath. She had brown eyes and her nose had a slightly squashed look, but there was only one thing about her, these days, that Allen would see even before she entered the room. Kimberly had done something almost criminal, to quote the apparently fashion conscious pediatrician, to her hair. It was already bristly like Allen's, and ginger like Camilla's, but the fifth grade girl had used paste to make it stick out like hedgehog's quills- or would, if hedgehog quills grew in sticky clumps. To complete the mismatched impression, a pair of goggles was pushed back like a hair band.

She didn't stop her monologue when she entered the room. "…Must be a grown up if I didn't like Usher, but I told her I'd hold my ideals proudly and wouldn't submit to the likes of her, and she laughed, maybe she'd taken notes on how to be a bully. Then she asked why I looked so weird, which was weird of her, because everyone knows…"

"Welcome home, Kim," Allen said loudly, putting a container of leftover stir fry on the table. He thought of his conference with her teacher, and the note crumpled up in his briefcase. He wondered how best to tell his daughter.

Kimberly took a fork off the silverware tray, a convenient feature added post Camilla, who'd liked to keep different types of silverware in separate drawers. She set her bookbag carefully on the table, and scooped stir fry onto a plate. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Kimiko?" she whined, also automatically, before going on. "You're okay with leftovers tonight? Not too manly to microwave, I hope. …Anyway, that's not the worst of what happened today…"

Allen listened as Kimberly recounted the same incident her teacher had spoke to him about, from a rather different perspective. As her stir fry microwaved, she fiddled with one of her interactive keychains.

"I said I had to go to the bathroom, but I really just wanted to walk outside, and teachers don't expect the girls to do that sort of thing. But on the way I met a girl, and she asked me if I was the Digimon Girl. And I said yes, and she said I was stupid. _And _a boy. I told her she had no authority to say who was a boy and who wasn't, only a janitor can do that, and even then you have to be in the wrong bathroom."

Ah, Digimon, thought Allen. That's what it always boiled down to with Kimberly these days. She'd watched the show, among others, when she was little, despite Camilla saying it was too violent for a little girl, but nothing untoward had happened. Then one day he woke up and found a drawing on her bed labeled FaeriedraMon in his daughter's handwriting. Next thing he knew, her walls were covered in similar pictures, she had a collection of cards, and she was wearing goggles to school. Allen was worried about his daughter.

Kimberly continued, "And then she said I was weird, and even though I know I'm weird, I called her an instigator and a boy walking past gasped, even though he probably doesn't know what that means. All it means is someone who starts stuff. And then I said she was cold hearted and had no spirit of adventure, and she said she didn't care, and that it was better than being a weirdo. And she laughed.

"That's when Mrs. Wightman came out and gave the usual speech about respect, and somehow managed to fit doing your homework and getting to class on time into the matter, if only in her own mind. Then she made the kid go away and followed me to the bathroom like some kind of pervert, and I had to pretend I was going even though I wasn't, which was gross and embarrassing, almost as gross as a lady who follows kids to the bathroom.

"When I came out she asked me why I was fighting with the third grader. I didn't know she was a third grader. I said we weren't fighting we were just arguing over whether it was worse to be weird and good, or soulless and 'normal', and she said that she was only teasing me because I did weird things like spike my hair up and talk about Digimon all the time, and if I stopped, they'd stop. But I said that it's a soul's duty to itself to be loyal to his or her dreams, and I would gladly bear the ridicule of my fellows, because I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I gave up on my ideals. Then she said that that sort of thing was exactly what she was talking about, and then we went back to class. Man, I'm not at all sure about Mrs.Wightman. The principal may have said she's a model educator, but she makes me feel all cold and slimy inside." With that, Kimberly fell silent, devoting her full attention to her keychain.

Allen put a forkful of stir fry in his mouth, and realized he hadn't microwaved it yet. It was cold and slimy- like Mrs. Wightman. Allen chuckled quietly as he put the dish in the microwave oven. Sometimes the little girl reminded him so much of himself.

"Oh no! Nagainamon is still hurt! How could I have missed it?"

Then again, she just as often didn't.

--------

After dinner, Kim gravitated upstairs to her bedroom. As she did almost every time she walked up the staircase, she fluffed the off-white carpet with her feet. When she was really young, the stairs had been covered with sand paper to prevent slipping. But when Kim's parents had divorced, she and Dad had moved to a newish duplex, with carpeted steps, and ever since she'd just loved the feel of them. _Yep, that's the sort of world I live in_, Kim thought. Then she added, just to feel better, _Not if I can help it_.

Kim's room was second to last down the hall, just before the second bathroom. Having two bathrooms was almost unacceptably convenient, with only two people in the house. But Kim cut that train of thought short, because that wasn't the kind of world she wanted to live in.

The room had started out with white walls. For awhile those walls had been covered with pictures, mostly of Digimon, but some of simply exciting people and places. They were good pictures, if she did say so herself, but really, they didn't seem like enough. So, eventually, Kim took them all down. She made her dad get her some paint, and covered the walls in a mural of a red and gold desert stretching to the horizon, with a couple of rock formations sticking out starkly from the sand. Around her bed was a small oasis of plastic palm trees. Now when she walked into her room, at least in a certain mood, she felt like she was stepping outside rather than in. But in other, drearier moods, it still wasn't enough. She had painted the desert's sky pale and blotchy, like her favorite sky from the Digital World. She'd look at it as she fell asleep at night and wish she was seeing it for real.

For awhile longer she played with Nagainamon on her keychain. Nagainamon was her pride and joy. The keychain was so old it could almost be called vintage, and Kim took special care to keep it away from static and magnets, and anything else that might hurt the data. Under Kim's protection, the winged dragon-like Nagainamon had lived to a ripe old age- for a keychain pet, anyway. Kim kept two other keychain Digimon, mainly to do battle and keep Nagainamon in fighting form, since no one else Kim knew had even one. Oddly, those monsters often up and died for no reason, even though they were right next to Nagainamon, and so couldn't have been hurt by any outside interference. It was infuriating.

When the pixilated monster fell asleep, Kim returned the keychain gently to her bookbag, which was leaning against a deflating inflatable palm tree. She rooted through her toy box- which contained everything she didn't use anymore and a few of the things she just didn't want to display- and pulled out a bicycle pump. After re-inflating her oasis, Kim returned it to the bottom of the toy box. She'd gotten the bicycle pump when she was seven, and it sported a pink Barbie motif; these days, she really didn't want to live in that sort of world.

Kim stood in the middle of her room. Her eyes fell on her computer, nestled in the corner behind her oasis, with a few peeling stickers on the monitor. She considered logging on and chatting, asking about the weather in Britain and such, arguing with her old friend/nemesis Argusnaut over whether Kyuubimon was cooler than Metalgreymon. Nah. She'd lied about her age to get into those forums, but her box was so slow that by the time her posts get through, her lie will have come true.

So she did her homework.

--------


	2. Digital Boy

**Chapter 2**

**Digital Boy**

"Good morning children!"

"Good morning Mrs. Wightman…"

The next day of school could not have come slower to Kim; could _never _have come slower. Kim sat at one of the front desks in the room, so that Mrs. Wightman could make sure she wasn't playing with her keychain. At the front of the room, Kim didn't have to endure the insultingly cheerful posters and stuffed animals hung around on the walls, but she was forced to look at the display of educational awards on Mrs. Wightman's desk. But however slowly she'd wished school would come, Kim couldn't help but come alive faced with the surprise it brought today.

"Today, class, we are pleased to welcome a new student. Not only is he new to this school, but he is new to this country, so, not only do I want you to be on your best behavior, but I want you to each be little guides for him until he is used to the way we do things here," instructed Mrs. Wightman. She smiled, more as an example to the class than as an actual expression of pleasure. "He should be here any minute now."

Shortly after the teacher said this, the room's tinted glass door opened. A boy, shadowed by the imposing ex-linebacker principal, took a single step through, and glanced around, almost timidly. Every head in the class turned individually to look at him, except for Mrs. Wightman's, which was watching the kids for signs of misbehavior.

Kim thought the boy was rather good looking. His eyes were gentle, green in color, and he wore his black hair in loose dreadlocks. Rather than being pudgy like most kids in Kim's class, the new boy was actually in good shape. He was dressed in jeans and a blue-green camouflage t-shirt, with a tan vest over top. Mrs. Wightman whispered with the principal for a few seconds, then escorted the boy to the front of the room, keeping one of her hands on his back. The principal slunk back to whatever principals do.

When the boy passed Kim's desk, he seemed to try and pretend like he wasn't staring at her hair. She thought she saw his eye twitch slightly. Everyone Kim had ever met since she started spiking her hair had been surprised, but no one had ever tried to hide it. _Maybe he just doesn't know what's 'normal' here_, Kim surmised. Suddenly, a thought struck her. If someone didn't know what was 'normal', then perhaps, to that one person, Kim wouldn't have to be an exhibit.

Mrs. Wightman smiled at the new boy in a way she probably thought was comforting. She tapped one fingernail on her desk. "So, can you tell everyone what your name is?"

"My name is M- Gen Maeda," answered Gen.

The teacher glanced at the class as if worried they'd laugh at his name, then reaffixed her special-class smile to the new kid. "And where are you from?"

"…Wakayama."

"And where's that?"

"Wakayama is a city in Japan. That's a country." It was always hard to tell, when someone had an accent, but it seemed pretty obvious that Gen didn't think Mrs. Wightman was very smart. Well, that probably made them even. Embarrassingly, there were several "oh"s from around the class.

Mrs. Wightman was unfazed. She tapped again. "Very good. Now can you tell us a little about yourself? If you can't that's all right."

Kim was surprised Gen didn't roll his eyes. "I _can _speak English," he replied. "I'm eleven years old, and was meant to study math in a class two years older at the last school. Our family is now living in a house made of brick at a place where two roads cross."

"Wow, great for you! I'm very impressed," cooed Mrs. Wightman, very deliberately. Gen didn't seem to react to her tone of voice, but Kim recognized the mood in Mrs. Wightman that got students stuck with things like Storytime Duty. She continued, splenda sweet. "Is there anything you like to do?"

"I like swimming… And computers."

At last, the teacher seemed satisfied, having gone through the standard roster of questions. She ushered Gen to an empty seat at the back of the room, and returned to the front of the room, where she was queen of her own little world. At least, that's how Kim always imagined her feeling.

"Alright, class, schedule is as normal, we begin every day with Local Studies. What was the name of the mayor who rebuilt the city hall in 1898?"

There was a general sighing and whisper of fabric as kids sunk lower in their seats. Normal could be comforting sometimes, but other times it could be a pain in the neck.

--------

It was lunch time. Lizzie McGilberry bustled across the lunchroom to the table of room 112, where she bent over and whispered loudly to her friend Jasmine.

"Hey Jazz-meen, do you see that guy over at table 144?"

Jasmine whispered back, also rather loudly. It was the only way to be heard over a hundred other whispered conversations. "Lizzie, you haven't gotten lunch! Are you going on a diet?"

Lizzie ignored her. "He's a new guy. He's Japanese. That's _foreign_."

"Wait." Jasmine snapped to attention, laying her hands on top of Lizzie's. "You're not considering…!" She turned her head to room 144's table, and located the unfamiliar face.

Grinning impishly, Lizzie explained. "Shaniqua S. told me. He's in her class. You know I've been looking for a new boyfriend, and Tasha O. will think twice before bossing me around if I have a really cool one."

"Ooh, you're so cold, girl!"

"You know it!"

Lizzie scurried off. Jasmine turned back to her tray. She raised her hand. "Mr. Amcharski, someone stole my ice cream!"

--------

After lunch, Kim's class always went to the library. Some days they studied books, and other days they were shown the basic functions of a computer. Kim hated this class. It was entirely review- the lessons this year were the lessons of the previous year, rehashed, and no one was allowed to use the internet.

It was computers today. The kids filed in and took seats around three long artificial wood tables, laden with computers almost as old and slow as Kim's. The assignment- explore formatting Word documents- and precise instructions how to do that were displayed on a projector, so that the librarian could stay in her office. Kim had heard she was young, and engaged in black-market trade. That was probably untrue, but you never know. Mrs. Wightman stayed to keep an eye on everyone.

After a few minutes, Kim got bored. Her hand automatically reached towards her pocket, where Nagainamon was kept during school. But Kim had a better idea.

Under the pretense of getting a tissue, Kim passed by Gen's seat. His screen displayed a news website- in Japanese, of course. He was on the internet! Kim managed several more looks throughout the hour before people started to get suspicious. She returned to her seat for the last time, and started thinking. Her school wasn't even connected to the internet, except on teachers' computers. This new kid must be pretty slick to get onto the internet from a library computer. He must know computers inside and out!

Kim took Nagainamon out of her pocket, to make sure she wasn't hungry or anything. But looking at the little Digimon on the keychain screen, an idea began to work its way into her head. It was a plan based on assumption, but it filled her with an energy she hadn't felt for a long time. She resolved to talk to Gen after school.

--------

The bell rang. Even after the other students had left, Gen stayed at his new desk for a few seconds, taking in the strange room. There still hadn't been time for it to sink in that he'd never see his house again. The packing, the plane trip, the new house, the unpacking; after all that, everything somehow didn't seem _real _anymore. He had only grudgingly learned the English language when his parents announced they'd be moving to the United States. They could be so selfish sometimes. And now life was supposed to go on like nothing had happened, though everything was different, everyone was a stranger, and he couldn't even talk to them without thinking embarrassingly hard about it.

The teacher saw him sitting there, and began to walk towards him. Not wanting to deal with her- she already seemed to have formed a low opinion of him- Gen collected his things and left as quickly as possible.

--------

People gushed through the halls like migrating salmon. In those blessed tides of freedom, Lizzie sidled over to Jasmine. "He's coming this way," she whispered.

"Who?"

"That foreign guy!"

"You'd better go talk to him."

Lizzie craned her neck to see the boy in the blue shirt. He was coming closer as they spoke. Lizzie hissed urgently, "But I don't know what to say!"

Jasmine thought. "Well… He's foreign, you say?... Ask him if he's eaten couscous!"

"Okay!" Lizzie stepped in front of the boy just as he was about to pass her. He was rather attractive, she noted. Perfect. She smiled coyly and batted her eyes at him. She assumed a shy voice. "Hellooo… I was just wondering… Do you like to eat couscous?"

The boy looked adorably confused. "No… Is that a staple here?" he asked.

"Uh…" Lizzie scurried back to Jasmine.

"Ask what's his name!"

"Okay," Lizzie sprinted back in front of the boy, who had been trying to get away. She laid her head on his shoulder. "Uhh… What's your name?" she cooed.

"… Gen Maeda." He shrugged uncomfortably. Lizzie withdrew her head, grabbing his arm instead. A name like that lost him a few points, but it was still good. She could just not tell Tasha his name.

She squeaked. "Ooh… Jazz-meen's name is foreign too, you know." Then, Lizzie was struck by inspiration. "Hey, is Caucasia near Japan? 'Cause that's where Jazz-meen's from."

The boy gave her a tired look, before running away.

--------

Nearing the door, Gen slowed down. Those girls were incredibly creepy… He just wasn't ready for that sort of thing. Earlier, a boy had said to him, 'If you're Japanese, then Kimberly's gonna really love you.' Was that her?

Gen couldn't help but notice when the other creepy girl of the day walked through the hall. He could see her shock of orange hair, which reminded him uncomfortably of his mother, over the crowd. Soon she was in sight, with her plain face and floppy, oversized sweatshirt.

He hadn't expected her to do anything to him; his eyes had just been drawn to her. But when she saw him, she grabbed his shoulders and whispered in his ear, so rapidly he had trouble understanding. "Quick, into the closet! We have to talk- I saw your stunt in the library!"

--------

Kim pulled Gen into a nearby storage closet, drawing a few stares. But everyone was in such a hurry to be gone, they didn't stop to investigate. That was good- Kim didn't want their conversation to be overheard, since it would probably get Gen in trouble. Gen himself, though, was looking from her to the door with fear in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm not kidnapping you," she tried to reassure him. "I just want to talk. Do you ride the bus?"

He shook his head. "I'm riding in the car with mother."

"I walk home. Now… Did you really sneak onto the internet on the library computer?"

"That's not your business."

The way Gen was looking at her made Kim realize she was probably being rather intimidating. She _was _squeezing pretty hard on his shoulders. She slowly let go of him, and shuffled her feet sheepishly. "Sorry… I didn't mean to come across so mean. You can call me Kimiko."

Gen smiled halfway. "Kimiko isn't your real name, is it?" he probed.

"No, it's Kimberly, but I'd much rather be called Kimiko, wouldn't you?"

"No I wouldn't. I'm a boy," Gen responded. Kim laughed, and for a second Gen laughed too, nervously. Laughter is contagious. But Kim couldn't help but see that Gen kept glancing at her goggles. She pretended she hadn't noticed.

"Don't change the subject," she admonished, trying to still sound polite. "I don't really care why you wanted to read the internet news in library class; I'd probably do the same thing if I could. But I need someone with those kind of skills for a… project."

Gen looked sideways at her. "What kind of… project… is this?"

Kim thought, _He's probably thinking I'm up to no good. Well, there's nothing I can do about that. Except… well, so much for suspense, I could just tell him what it is. _"I need you to help me find the Digital World."

Gen's jaw dropped. He took a step backwards. "You're crazy!" he blurted.

"I thought you'd say that… If you don't want to do it, that's okay." Kim shook her head, touching her goggles gently with one hand. "But I'm not crazy. I just have a… a dream. Here," she forced a scrap of paper into his hand. "It's my address. You can ask your mom to drive you there if you change your mind."

With that parting gift, Kim left the closet, accidentally tipping a mop over with her foot. In her experience, it was almost impossible to go in and out of a closet with a broom in it without tipping the broom over. Once she was on the road home, the talk already seemed like ages ago. Kim doubted that Gen would agree to her request. She'd probably made a fool of herself for nothing. But she was an honorable fool, and that was the sort of world Kim wanted to live in. There were far worse things.

--------

Gen was thoroughly shaken up. So _that _was Kimberly. It was true, then, what his dad said. America was full of hotheads. But Gen put the address in his pocket; it might come in handy.

The halls were already empty, and the busses gone. But his mother's sleek red car, which she had ordered to be shipped across the ocean rather than be left behind, was just rolling into the parking lot.

Gen took a breath of spring air. Spring smelled the same everywhere, though in parking lots it was accented with gasoline. He climbed into the car, and set his still-small stack of stationery in the seat beside him. His mother turned her auburn head and smiled at him with her thin, cherry red lips, before starting the car up again. The radio was on, playing some modern music, the lyrics of which he couldn't understand at all.

Until now, Gen would never have known how good it could feel to hear Mom talk in plain old Japanese. Though she only said, " How was your first day of school? "

" It was… queer, " Gen answered. He stared out the window. The houses and buildings weren't all that different, when you got right down to it. There were only so many ways to build a sturdy house.

Gen's mom smiled at him mischievously in the rearview mirror. " Did anyone comment on your clothes? I see you aren't wearing my necklace. "

Gen fished a black choker, beaded with black wooden 'X's and a black dog tag with some English gibberish written on it, out of his pocket, and looked at it. His mom had been delighted to take him shopping for clothes to wear on his first day of school. " I don't think anyone cared, mom. " He thought for a minute, then spoke again. " Mom… Why did you do it? "

" I wanted you to make a good impression on your first day. Those clothes are supposed to be very fashionable. "

Gen shook his head. " No, not that. I meant… why did you write… that show? "

The car stopped at a red light. Gen's mom looked back at him, surprised. " Why did I write the Digimon story? Is that what you mean? I wanted to see something of mine on television. And it's been a big success, hasn't it? I heard it was popular in America, too. " She grinned knowingly. The light turned green, and she started driving again. " Ah. Did you mention it at school? What happened? "

" Nothing. I didn't mention it. I was just… wondering, that's all… " Gen sighed. His mother embarrassed him. And now that he'd met this Kimberly girl, he also felt strangely guilty…

--------


	3. Digital Dream

**Chapter 3**

**Digital Dream**

Allen Kirkley tentatively opened the door to his daughter's room. She was sitting in a beanbag chair playing with her keychain. The computer was on. It seemed to be loading something. "Hey Kim," he whispered. She glanced up at him for a millisecond, keeping her eyes on the tiny screen. Allen spoke again, louder, but still gently. "We… Need to talk, Kim." This time, Kim turned looked Allen full in the face; eyes wide, mouth open a crack. After a second, her keychain started beeping frantically.

Allen grimaced, mostly to himself. The kid looked like he'd enlisted her in the armed forces. "Don't look like that. You're not in any trouble."

Kim's eyes narrowed for a second, but she relaxed. Allen came into the room, shutting the door behind him. The mural in here had an odd effect on him; he just couldn't get over how well a kid Kim's age could paint. As he sat down next to her, she still didn't say anything, just watched him very carefully, as if he was here to trick her somehow. But where to start talking? Allen didn't know why this issue made him so nervous, either.

"Kim…" he started. "Yesterday I had a… talk with your teacher. It sounds like you're not getting along well with your classmates."

Kim smiled, leaning beck and looking at the ceiling. "Not for long, though. One day soon that'll all change." Allen was surprised.

"Well, that's what it's about. Apparently she thinks you're the one who should be doing the changing."

"Hah! Just because I'm the only one who's different doesn't mean I'm the only one who's wrong! I will continue to be true to myself, no matter what some old crony says, and I will be a better woman for it!" Kim punched fiercely at the sky. Allen laughed, and held his hands in front of him.

He started to leave. "All right. I just wanted to bring it up. She told me about a child therapist who she thought might be good for you-"

Kim leapt to her feet, and barked, "A therapist! Who does she think I am, crazy? I'll show her, I will!"

"-But I didn't think you'd agree to that sort of thing." Allen laughed again. Kim laughed, too, before flopping back onto the beanbag chair. Allen left and closed the door, but not before he'd placed the slip of address paper on Kim's desk, next to the computer. "Well, I just wanted to get my umbrella before heading back to work. They're having problems with the pipes. See ya."

Kim held her keychain in front of her, and looked at Nagainamon in her little room. She didn't seem to mind the interruption. Kim whispered, "Hah!"

--------

Just one hour ago, Gen had been certain he wasn't going to have anything to do with Kim. But he was now standing in front of her door, with her address in his hand- in a stroke of serendipity, it was within walking distance. It was curiosity. Ever since he could remember, Gen couldn't resist what he couldn't believe, or so he liked to put it. His mom always asked where he was going, if she let him out alone at all; he'd just told her he was going to check out the neighborhood. Gen didn't really want to tell his mother that he was going to visit her biggest fan.

Kim's house seemed to be part of a duplex, since there were two front doors, and a plank fence that ran through the middle of the yard. The right side of the building was painted dark orange; the left side was painted duck egg blue. The yard was, to Gen's understanding, fairly standard. All down the street there were similar duplexes. After first asking himself if he'd rather pass this house by, Gen knocked on the door.

Gen could hear a series of rapid, muffled thumps through the door. The last thump was particularly loud, and was followed by silence. A minute later, the lock clicked, and the door was opened by Kim. She brushed some dust off her sweater and adjusted her goggles, which were almost slipping off her head. "It's amazing how durable plastic is," she observed. Gen almost felt like turning around right then.

Kim waved him into the living room. "Sorry about that. I was so surprised I fell down the stairs. I really can't believe you came! Come on in!" She was talking quite quickly, giving Gen some trouble. He stepped tentatively through the doorframe. He realized he had been acting awfully timid lately. That wasn't like him; moving must have noticeably shaken him up.

The living room was dim and decorated in earthy tones. There was a television, and a table in the middle loaded with magazines. In between a brown sofa and a recliner, a basket of laundry was stowed, and a pair of boots languished beneath the table. Kim strode loudly into the next room, which was more brightly lit and tiled in brick red. "Would you like some couscous?" she hollered.

Gen didn't like to eat much before supper- both his parents were good cooks; they took turns making meals- but he was curious about couscous. It'd be a good idea to get to know the local foods. "Yes, please. I'd like a small couscous."

In the next room, which appeared to be the kitchen, Kim was stirring a steaming pot on the stove. "Ever since dad started looking for a new girlfriend, he doesn't want to do any cooking. He thinks a lady wouldn't want a man who cooks, 'cause it isn't manly. So I make all our dinners now," she explained. She ladled a scoop of yellow-brown mash into a bowl she held in her left hand, and passed it to Gen. "Here's your couscous, hot off the griddle. Spoons are on the rack."

Gen didn't know what a griddle was, but decided it didn't matter for now. "My dad cooks. Mom says that's why she married him," he said instead, surprising himself.

Kim laughed. "Hah! I'll tell that to dad. Come on, my room's upstairs." Kim entered a stairwell to the side of the kitchen. Gen followed. The top floor seemed slightly claustrophobic, as all the doors but one were shut. The second to last door was askew, and light streamed from it onto the gray carpet. Gen nudged the door open a bit wider.

The room startled him a bit. It had been turned into a surprisingly realistic desert. There was a window, but the blind was shut and painted as well. There was a shelf and two chests around the edges of the room, but painted sheets had been thrown over them. The sky looked like it had been done with a sponge. A black beanbag chair looked like a rock, and the bed was surrounded by rather silly looking inflatable palm trees. Kim sat in the corner on a stool, facing her computer.

"I'm not quite sure where to look," she admitted. "You wouldn't find the Digital World in any place you'd look casually on a computer, though. Otherwise people would find it all the time."

Gen sighed, and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know why I came here. I think what you want to do is very… very…" He started again. "Digimon is a fantasy! It isn't real!"

Kim looked downcast. "I… thought you'd changed your mind. You can't _know _until you try. Someone had to look for these things or people will go on thinking that."

"There is no possible way for it to be true. Computers are parts and electricity and programs. There is no room for a 'world' in them. I know computers too well to believe in things like that."

With a mournful expression, Kim got up. She strode across the room to her shelf, and rolled up the sheet. The shelf was mainly taken up by a collection of figurines, cards, and novelty replica Digivices. But there were also stacks of paper. Kim took one of the stacks down and began sifting through it, while talking. "I never even told dad this, but two years ago, I had a dream. Unlike most dreams, I still remember it today as if I had dreamed it last night."

Gen set his couscous down and took a sheet of paper off the top of one of the piles. It was a drawing of a two headed, winged centaur in half plate armor, flying above a leafy forest. The picture looked almost professional. It was labeled Pumeyumon. He placed it gently back on top of the stack. Kim continued talking. "I was in some sort of labyrinth. It wasn't frightening. Grass grew on the walls and floor, and I could see the sky."

Gen scanned the lines of figurines. His gaze fell on one toy that didn't seem to have anything to do with Digimon. It was red and light brown, and made up of three parts. The main part was brown, and a pinched teardrop shape; three buttons ran down the thin end, above a round glassy bubble in the wide end. Two smaller bubbles touched the first, symmetrically. Two short red bars extended from the thick end of the teardrop, touching the small bubbles. It looked like some sort of cheap handheld game. He interrupted Kim, holding it. "What's this?"

Kim looked up sharply. "Oh, that's another Digivice," she said after a second.

"It doesn't look like any Digivice I've ever seen. You're obsessed!" Gen countered.

Kim just smiled cheerfully. "I'm impressed that you know so many words. No, I know it's a Digivice, because the guy who gave it to me said it was. See, there was this boy I met somewhere. He said he was sick of Digimon, and didn't want to own anything to do with it. I don't think he'd lie about something like that. So of course I happily took it. That thing showed up in my dream, too, except it was blue. The odd thing was, the dream came a year before I got it. But I'm getting ahead of myself." She started shuffling papers again. Gen looked at the alleged Digivice. Suddenly, he realized he had a lot to think about.

"Aha! Found it!" Kim raised a piece of paper above her head. She passed it to Gen. In contrast to the centaur, it was crudely drawn. But it was recognizable as a small, blue dragon with large yellow eyes. It was mostly sky blue, but an uneven stripe of dark blue ran down its back. It wore something like a necklace, or a harness, with an ornament shaped like a lightning bolt hung on it. Around the shoulders, the harness was thick, with a pair of bat wings attached. The whole apparatus was bone white, and affixed to the back of the baby dragon's head by a thin cord. There was writing beneath it, but it was so sloppy that Gen couldn't read it. "She appeared in front of me in the dream. She walked beside me in the maze, not saying anything, until that thing fell from the sky, and she grew, and I rode her out of the maze. …It's… It sounds kind of silly now that I tell someone about it. You wouldn't even know it had anything to _do _with Digimon, without that certainty you get in dreams. But it had been so vivid; I thought it was a premonition. So when I woke up, I drew this. And that's what started all this for me. Every time I think I'm being stupid, I think about the dream, and keep on wishing. In my darker moments, I think I've driven myself crazy. So I need to find out if the dream was true. To do that, I need to see everything there is to see in a computer. And to do that, I need your expertise."

Gen handed the drawing back to Kim. She looked up at him from her sitting position with a baleful expression. He hadn't meant to get her so worked up… _And now look_, he thought. _My curiosity is getting the better of me again_. The dream, the device… It was the least Gen could do to help the poor girl out. He took the bowl of couscous and sat down at the computer, smiling gamely. "I can't refuse when you say it like that. … How about we start looking at what we can see, and move toward the code itself?"

Kim grinned.

--------

For about two hours, they explored the workings of Kim's old computer, with her struggling to keep up. Then, Gen realized he would be late for supper. To Kim's disappointment, though Gen wasn't surprised, there was nothing at all out of the ordinary. She sighed, staring at the carpet. She couldn't bear to look at her sky of dreams.

Gen saw her pitiful look, and patted her on the back. "You shouldn't give up yet. There are still many places we haven't looked."

Kim hesitated. But he had a point. "Hah! I said myself it wouldn't be easy, didn't I!"

Gen stood up, and stopped at the door. "You… can expect me to come tomorrow," he promised. Kim, too, jumped to her feet.

"Wait!" She held up a hand like a crossing guard, and with the other took the red and brown Digivice from the shelf. She pressed it into Gen's hand. "I want you to have this. It's to say thank you for everything. Kim beamed.

Gen smiled back; suddenly, he ran back to the desk and snatched a torn bit of paper. "I almost forgot your address."

--------

Kim washed the dishes and did her homework, but her mind was on other things. Allen came home, complaining about the trouble with the heating system at work, and ate three helpings of couscous and broccoli.

When she fell asleep, Kim was full of doubt, the feeling she disliked most of all.

--------

Gen looked at the toy in his hand as he jogged home. His mother had sent the original story of the Digimon series to the studio by mail, and continued to send and receive updates; she played a big part in the franchise- though, uncharacteristically, she preferred to be kept anonymous. Gen had carefully avoided showing any interest whatsoever in it, afraid of how she would react. He was sure that if what Kim had given him was really a Digivice, his mom would recognize it. So he couldn't let his mom see it.

Gen looked up and saw he was by the river. The family had passed it several times while looking for their neighborhood. He looked around, trying to figure out how he could have gotten so lost. Then he stood at the edge of the river. It wasn't very deep or wide, and simply cut through the middle of the city. In his first day of school here, he had heard that it was once a proper river and flooded often, but a dam had been built upstream, and the river had dwindled. Concrete steps led down to the bank, which was considerably lower than street level. A sewer dumped into it.

_I could always… drop it in the river… But no, that would be rude. It is a gift, after all. I can't keep it, though. _Gen looked over his shoulder at a dumpster. _I could hide it in… _under_, the dumpster for someone to find._

Gen climbed down the steep bank, since he was here, and put a finger in the water. He watched the light reflect off the ripples, and realized that the sky had gotten rather dark. Perhaps it was going to rain soon.

Gen turned his head as something tapped against the bottom step. _A conch shell? _He took it out of the water, turned it upside down. Water poured out of it. _Where could it have come from? _There were some primitive-looking symbols scratched on the shell's smooth inside. Gen shrugged, and put it down beside him. Who knew what you got in rivers around here?

A foghorn- there's no lighthouse here! - blew, startling Gen. In the middle of the river, a light seemed to shine from underwater. He jumped up, accidentally kicking the Digivice into the river.

A second after the sound bellowed, a shape exploded from the circle of light, landing on the shore, and making the ground shake. Gen couldn't see it. When he looked up, all that was visible over the bank was a tail. He heard a loud sniffing, and a crunch as a large pair of feet shifted their weight.

A few grams of plastic, an amazingly durable material when it's made properly, floated slowly to the river bottom. Instead of settling into the mud, though, a current pulled it towards the middle, into the circle of light. Time seemed to slow, or perhaps perception sped up. The Digivice glowed, and the screen flickered to life. The glowing surface of the water bulged; a ripple flew through space, and faded.

The ripple hit Gen. It tingled. He looked down; the Digivice was back in his hand. The giant creature above him looked down also. Its head was reminiscent of a tyrannosaur's, with leathery green skin. A disproportionate horn protruded over the large nostrils that were pointed at Gen. Oddly, though it was right in his face, he couldn't feel its breath.

The Digivice projected a hologram of a similar green dinosaur, with red stripes and huge claws. Two red and black horns the size of its head curved from its muscular shoulders, which sported a skull tattoo. "Tuskmon," it said briskly. "This champion dinosaur destroys anything in its path! Its attacks include Horn Buster and Bayonet Lancer." _What the…! _

The snout's giant mouth opened, baring sharp teeth and a pointed red tongue. It spoke- or rather, sent words crackling through the air. What did it say?

"**Bayonet Lancer!"**

Gen jumped out of the way before the attack hit. He heard cement cracking. Thankfully, he landed in the river. Tuskmon's eyes followed him with mild interest. Gen swayed to his feet. The water only came up to his knees, not counting the mud. How could an entire dinosaur fit under this?

The Digivice started to beep. " What now? " Gen moaned. _Could it actually, against every odd and law of physics, be real? What did that Kimberly girl get me into! _Its screen was now a light yellow, and read: Summoning Digimon. Press Top Button To Confirm. Gen snapped at it. " No way! One Digimon is bad enough! "

Tuskmon charged down the bank, leaving footprints in the concrete. It opened its mouth again. **"Slamming Tusk!"** Its giant horns glowed. Gen turned and ran, as the clumsy Digimon rocketed past behind him. A thunderousbash indicated that it had crashed into the opposite bank. Gen thought again. _Maybe, if I summon another Digimon, they'll destroy one another. _He pressed the button on the Digivice, and it immediately started to glow, and grow very hot. He dropped it- it hovered. There was a succession of loud splashes behind him; Tuskmon was coming around again.

Space seemed to bubble around the Digivice for a second. A pale yellow silhouette flashed beneath it, which in turn solidified. When the Digivice stopped glowing, Gen grabbed it and read. The hologram this time was of a small, fuzzy dog with red-brown fur and a cream colored underbelly. Its otherwise featureless ears each had three green triangles on their front, and its tail ended in a closed pink flower. Its cute, playful eyes were vaguely diamond shaped. It was… "Uchimon (rookie), the gatekeeper's dog! It's still a puppy, but the flower on its tail packs a powerful Petal Pistol attack!"

Uchimon materialized fully, just in time for Tuskmon to crash into both Gen and it. Gen ducked underwater as an attack snapped overhead. When he resurfaced, Uchimon was looking at him expectantly. "Aren't you going to do something?" Gen asked it.

The puppy winked, and replied in Japanese. " Let's teach this lizard who's boss! You ready, partner? "

"Eh?" Even when you speak the same language, some things take awhile to sink in.

" You _are _Gen Maeda, the new Digidestined who summoned me, yes? I said, are you ready? "

--------


	4. Digital Monsters

**Chapter 4**

**Digital Monsters**

Kim was lying loosely in her oasis, snoring in a quite unladylike way. Even in sleep, she wore her goggles. If she could have seen herself then, she would have been disappointed that a bubble wasn't floating around her nose. The window blind was open, displaying a dream catcher against the stars. Nagainamon beeped, in a drowsy sort of way.

And then she said, "…What? At this time of night?"

Kim suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. For a few seconds, she stared blankly at the opposite wall. Then she rubbed her eyes. She had been dreaming about candles flying through a misty, rainbow gate, before a voice, squeaky yet rough, and female, had woken her up. Kim gazed around, trying to locate the speaker. But the room was empty…?

The voice spoke again. "Kim! Are you awake! Help me, the gates are opening erratically, and I'm stuck in this twentieth century hovel!"

"'S Kimiko," said Kim groggily. "Wait… Is that you, Nagainamon?" The latter was something even Kim only would have thought in her sleep.

"Yes yes yes! Quickly, touch me while I have a chance!"

Kim swung her legs out of bed, and limped to the shelf where Nagainamon's keychain was sitting. The Digimon was dancing excitedly around the screen. Kim touched the keychain with two fingers.

"That's not fast enough! More of you, hurry, they're coming!" Nagainamon snapped. Kim closed her fist around the keychain.

"Yes yes yes!"

The keychain changed shape under Kim's fingers, morphing into more the shape of a three pointed star. She opened her fist and looked at what it held: a Digivice just like the one she'd given to Gen, in light and dark blue. It was exactly like the one in her dream, and the screen was flashing yellow, displaying the words "Summoning Digimon".

_Nagainamon said it best herself_, Kim thought. _Yes yes yes! This had better not be a dream!_ But Kim was almost fully awake now. In the middle of the room, a flat yellow silhouette shimmered, growing thicker and more three-dimensional. It flashed for the last time, and became… Kim's mouth hung open. "FaerieDramon?"

The Digimon shook her delicately scaled head. "No way. That's the name you thought up yourself. I never included my name in my message."

A beam of light extended from the Digivice's main screen, and projected in a hologram an exact miniature duplicate of the Digimon standing before Kim. "Nagainamon (rookie)," it confirmed, "A plucky baby dragon Digimon who generates power in her collar. Armed with her Electron Stream attack, she is nothing to be underestimated."

"Woah! Holograms haven't even been invented yet!" Kim exclaimed. She knew she was already ready to accept that her dream- Nagainamon's message- had come true, and wanted to explore the new possibilities.

Nagainamon rolled her eyes. "Sheesh. The so-called "Real World" is just lagging behind in the technology department, isn't it? Other departments, of course- Oh, what are we doing wasting time! Out of the house, into the backyard!" She butted Kim in the ankles, pushing her to the door.

"Geeze, you're so pushy. You come on!" Kim ran ahead down the stairs, skidded through the kitchen, and thrust the door open, feeling proud of her speed. Nagainamon, with wings extended to a workable length, zoomed past her into the night. The dragon smirked triumphantly. Kim shook a finger at her. "This means war," she warned.

"Very true. Haul to the backyard, now! That's where the gate has opened." Nagainamon zipped around the side of the house. Kim followed, slightly peeved, and noticed a glow coming from the yard.

Nagainamon was crouched behind a bush with her wings shrunken again. She put a claw to her lips. Kim squeezed next to her. In the backyard beyond, a circle seemed to have been drawn in the grass and filled with light, rendering Kim night blind to most things beyond, except for the Digimon who were prowling around, whom, due to their nature, emitted their own light.

"Candlemon (rookie) attacks with fire, with Karmic Flame and Lava Loogie! Its true face is that of the DigiCore on its head," the Digivice informed. Kim shushed it.

There were three of them. Two of them stood on brass pedestals, and one, who seemed to be the leader, stood on a platinum one. It was conversing quietly with the others. Then, one stood up sharply and looked around. Its flame flared tall and blue for a split second; it tapped the platinum Candlemon on the shoulder and spoke in a waxy voice. "We're not alone. I just sensed another Digimon here."

The platinum Candlemon blustered. "Impossible! I thought we were the first!" It hit the other one, confirming Kim's suspicion of its leadership. A few dollops of wax broke off its hand and stuck to the subordinate Candlemon's shoulder. "What are you waiting for! Get it!"

The two brass Candlemon hopped reluctantly in the direction of Kim and Nagainamon's hiding place. "Distract them while I digivolve," hissed Nagainamon.

Kim was about to argue with the pushy Digimon, but thought better. She didn't have a better plan. So, she crawled on her belly to a tree a few feet away, and stood up behind it. She stepped into the light, as if she'd simply been taking a midnight stroll.

She improvised. "Uh… Holy mother of a pregnant llama killer, what are those things in my backyard?" All three Candlemon rotated to look at her.

"Aha! I have discovered a human!" exclaimed the platinum Candlemon, who Kim was already starting to think of as a bit of an idiot. It waved a dripping arm dramatically. "We shall take it home for research!"

Behind the bush, Nagainamon flipped the internal switch that would begin digivolution. Nothing happened. "Dammit, what's the big idea? I've done this dozens of times before. Why not now?" she groused.

The Candlemon hopped closer to Kim, though obviously hesitant. Kim took a step backwards, spun around, and started to run. She planned to circle back around to Nagainamon- or whoever she'd become by now- and surprise the Candlemon.

One of the Candlemon spoke, or more accurately, issued a command. If words had physical form, Kim could have believed that these words curved in the air, and dived into the glowing gate in the ground, coming back out crackling with power. The words were, unfortunately, **"Paraffin Paralyzer!"** Something hot hit Kim's back, sending a shock though her body that made her bones feel like cracking. She tried to turn her head and see what had hit her, but her eyes remained fixed forwards. In fact, she couldn't move at all. She was suffocating! The Candlemon cackled, and hopped towards her.

Nagainamon peered through the bush. That pathetic kid had already gotten paralyzed. Sheesh, on their own, humans were worse than rookies. Nagainamon realized she rather liked that idea. Besides, she supposed her stay in the "Real World" would be ridiculously short if she didn't keep Kim alive. Treading carefully on the grass, the blue dragon creeped up on the Candlemon.

Through sluggish nerves, Kim felt a pair of steamy, sticky hands grab her by the arms. The temperature suddenly spiked again, and Kim's muscles returned to life. She took a huge breath of air, and stumbled forward. Her heart worked double-time to make up for the blood it hadn't been able to pump. Kim was utterly shaken by her close encounter with death. A thought- _If a rookie can do that, how long am I going to survive if stronger Digimon appear? _

Wheeling around, Kim saw the reason for her release- the brass Candlemon who had paralyzed her had been smote, with a gaping hole in its back. It lay face down, dripping wax on the grass. Its arms were still stuck to Kim, though as she watched, it seemed to be growing a new pair.

Nagainamon was fighting the other brass Candlemon, while its boss stood back and watched. The animate candle jumped into the air and spat a glob of red, molten wax at Nagainamon, commanding, **"Lava Loogie!"**

Nagainamon ran around the attack. "Why haven't you digivolved?" asked Kim.

"I can't, for some reason," Nagainamon admitted. She stood still for a short moment as a mechanical whine filled the air. The thunderbolt on her chest lit up with a white light; the light traveled to the wings, and up the cord. The baby dragon's eyes glowed, and she opened her jaws wide, declaring, **"Electron Stream!" **A blinding thunderbolt shot out of her throat, breaking the Candlemon into dollops of wax. And then, shimmering fragments of plain data. She repeated the attack on the other brass Candlemon.

"You're quite strong. I'd be terrified of your Champion form," Kim cheered.

Nagainamon snorted, sending a few residual electrons fizzling around her nostrils. "Gimme a break. They were just weak."

The data that was the memories and last legacy of the two Candlemon was pulled towards the gate. But the platinum Candlemon inhaled deeply, and sucked the data inside itself. The air around it filled with fog, slowly thickening and shaping itself around Candlemon. The gate wobbled, and a shape expanded out of the fog. It wore an indigo cape covered in runes, and a pointy hat with a skull sewn on, pulled low over the figure's eyes. It thrust its cape back, showing that it was now human shaped, in a suit the color of wax, and brown boots and gloves. Its right hand held a golden staff topped with a stylized sun.

Kim's Digivice beeped, emitting a similar picture, and a short description. "Wizardmon (champion) is a wizard in training. But he already knows how to summon magical forces to attack. Look out for his Magical Game!"

--------

Uchimon was high on life right now. He had been chasing a crab, pretending it was a mighty foe, when his body began to change states. Next thing he knew, the Sunset World was gone, and he was in a stony, alien landscape, under a night sky. In front of him was an enraged enemy, and at his back a human partner, just like in the stories. There was only one hitch- the human seemed somehow incapacitated.

Gen shook his head. " No way… This can't continue the way it's going. "

Uchimon blinked, confused. " Why not? " he asked.

" There's a limit to what I can believe. I must be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something. Maybe I caught a rare brain disease from Kim. "

Uchimon was offended and disappointed. " If you're dreaming, how come I'm seeing this, too? " he countered.

Gen considered. That didn't sound like anything anyone would say in his dreams. He conceded reluctantly. " …Some philosophers say that life is a dream. We could be sharing hallucinations. "

Tuskmon wheeled around, gathering speed for another attack. Uchimon couldn't wait any longer. He leaped at the dinosaur, landing on its snout. From this perch, the wind whistled invigoratingly. Tuskmon shook his head, trying to get rid of the irritant, but Uchimon scampered down its neck and tickled its back.

From below came Gen's voice, sounding concerned now. " Wait! You're only a rookie! One attack from a Champion level could destroy you! "

_Maybe, but I can't waste my big chance! _Uchimon thought. He bit Tuskmon almost playfully, causing an impressive roar.

Carefully, Uchimon turned around, while remaining on Tuskmon's back. He sighted down his tail, aiming at the giant striped horn on the left. Then he reached deep within himself, a part so deep that it was less a part of him, and more a part of the home world he barely remembered, and gathered the power he needed. He released it in two words: **"Petal Pistol!" **The flower opened, and fired like a cannon. The horn was blown in half.

Without the heavy horn, Tuskmon's balance was thrown off. It slipped and toppled to the right. Uchimon hopped off just before he would have fallen off, and landed in the shallows. He chuckled; he was a natural!

Without getting up, Tuskmon charged up another attack. **"Horn Buster!"** it ordered. Uchimon scampered out of the way, as water sprayed up spectacularly from the impact. The water came splashing down, and soaked Uchimon. He noticed that it was chillier at night, and shivered in his matted fur.

A hand grabbed him by the nape of the neck and lifted him off the ground. When he twisted his head, Uchimon saw Gen carrying him away from the fight. " I don't know why, " Gen muttered, " but suddenly I need to protect you. "

Uchimon wriggled, but couldn't slip free. Then from behind came Tuskmon's voice again, and a huge blast slammed them both into the riverbed. Having been spared the full force of the attack, Uchimon got right back up, but Gen was floating limply, face down in the water. Uchimon nudged him, and he rolled over. He was breathing shallowly. There was no pain or injury in the Sunset World; Uchimon didn't know what had happened.

Tuskmon continued its charge. Though he didn't know why, Uchimon felt a little more… serious now. He stared down the stampeding dinosaur, and raised his tail like a scorpion. He fired three times in rapid succession, and all three shots hit their target. Tuskmon groaned.

The green Digimon slowly slid to a stop, and lay down at Uchimon's feet. "What… hit me?" it murmured, before closing its eyes. That was the first coherent thing it had said since it appeared. The body began to decompose at an accelerated pace, breaking into its component data. Uchimon watched the dusty nebula, awed. As if blown by a wind, the data returned to the circle of light, and sunk through it. Once the last glittering speck had passed through, the light went out.

Uchimon looked at unconscious Gen, still not sure what had happened. Being a dog, he licked his cheek. Gen's eyes fluttered open; he stirred, and tipped over in the water. A few seconds later, he got up, spat out some water, and shook his head again.

" There's a limit to what I can believe. Now that I've crossed it, I don't know what I'm going to do, " he sighed.

" How about… " Uchimon thought hard about it. **"Gentle Respite." **At the puppy's command, a soft dust clouded around Gen. One breath of it, and he fell asleep again.

--------

Wizardmon pointed its staff at Nagainamon, and cackled. "You stole my chance at being the first Digimon to enter the Real World since the last Earth War, _and_ you opposed my henchmen in capturing a human! I'll have you know there are rewards being offered for both! But it won't matter if you're dead!"

Nagainamon spat. Her spit glowed. "I hope someone deletes your mother while you're away. **Electron Stream!**"

Wizardmon floated up and over the lightning attack, which disappeared into the ground. "You like electrical attacks, do you? What do you think of this one- **Electro Squall!**" He waved his staff over his head, and clouds gathered above it. Lightning jumped between the cloud and the ground, striking Nagainamon along the way. She screeched, and collapsed where she stood. Wizardmon floated to Nagainamon's side, and whispered conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I hope that as well. I'm first in line for a large inheritance!"

Kim punched Wizardmon, knocking off his hat. She scooped Nagainamon's limp- but still alive- body off the ground, and ran back to the front door. She entered the house, locking the door behind her, and carried Nagainamon into her room. She laid her gently on the bed, and snatched one of her tins of Digimon cards off the shelf.

No one else she knew played the game, or even owned a single card of this nature. Though it was hard to tell, since all card games were banned at school for being immoral, along with Harry Potter, music that didn't include the phrase 'for kids' in the title, and religion. But Kim had amassed a large collection of cards for just this eventuality. She took out the first card that seemed suitable.

Then Kim searched for something that might be able to revive Nagainamon. Digging in her toy box, she found a battery recharger. That might work. Unhooked Nagainamon's cable, and the Digimon seemed to sag a little more. She then plugged her into the recharger and turned it on. Unexpectedly, Nagainamon's entire body began to shoot sparks. Afraid that either one of them might be hurt, Kim switched it off, and put Nagainamon's cord back where it was.

Nagainamon's eyes snapped open. She sat up and nodded to Kim. "Thank you very much for that. I concede you are good for something."

"Right. Take that!" Kim grinned. She discovered that she was already attached to the baby dragon. "Now _you'd _better hurry, 'cause Wizardmon's banging on the door."

"Don't push it," said Nagainamon dryly.

Wizardmon was indeed banging and rattling at the door. Kim, with her back to the wall, motioned for Nagainamon to take cover. Nagainamon hid behind the recliner. Kim waited for a pause between slams, then quickly opened the door. Wizardmon flung himself onto the floor.

Kim whipped out her Digivice and the card she'd picked out. There was a small slit on the back of the Digivice, and she slid the edge of the card into it. The screen flickered orange-red, displaying the word 'downloading'. The card seemed to stick in the middle for no apparent reason, but with a good yank Kim pulled it out. The screen now said 'transferring'.

By now Wizardmon had gotten to his feet. He pointed his staff at the recliner. "I can _sense _you back there!" He taunted. **"Thunder Ball!"** A luminescent orb flew in Nagainamon's direction.

"Counter Attack!" called Kim. At the signal, Nagainamon, flickering with added power, leapt from her hiding place.

"**Electron Stream!"**

The electricity jumped to the tip of Wizardmon's staff, and traveled through his hand. His attack vanished just before it would have left a telltale crater in the chair, as lightning arced all over the wizard Digimon's body. He began to dissolve, starting with the feet.

Kim couldn't imagine what it must feel like to die like this, and hoped no human would ever know. Even as he disappeared, Wizardmon acted like an idiot, shouting, "Curse you, brother! You sent me here to die, didn't you? Fine! I hope mother lives for a hundred years!" And then he was gone.

In the backyard, the cloud of data that was once Wizardmon disappeared through the gate. Then the circle of light shrunk, until it was only a point of light smaller than the dot on an i, barely visible even if you were looking for it. Kim and Nagainamon watched, until the yard was back to normal, for now.

Kim turned to Nagainamon. "Why is this happening?"

"There are 'hot spots' around both worlds, which connect to an intermediate world known as the Sunset World, from which you can travel to any point in either world. At certain times, and no one knows what decides when these times come, people and objects can travel through the gates that open in these hot spots. The gates always open at the same time, so if one opens, it means that every gate across both worlds is open."

"So… we could have gone to the Digital World if we'd wanted to?"

"Gates only work in one direction. Hot spots leading to the 'Real World' appear in the ground, and hot spots leading to the 'Digital World' manifest on the internet."

"…So Gen and I were barking up the right tree… We were just looking at the wrong branch," Kim mused. "But… This all wasn't quite what I meant. Speaking of Gen, he said that there wasn't room for a world in a computer. He… sort of made me think a little. How _does _the Digital World exist?"

Nagainamon smiled knowingly. "You humans so often can't see the program for the bytes. The Digital World isn't _in _the computers. It's suspended between computers, made from information-data- lost to space. That's why things don't work there unless periodically reminded of what they do. No, that's not quite right- oh whatever. I can't explain it, because I don't understand it either. And that's hard for me to admit, believe me."

"Hah! A diplomatic answer!" Kim sighed. It hit home. A Digimon, a Digivice, a Digital World. Which meant, somewhere in between, a Digidestined. Kim grinned at her partner.

Nagainamon cocked her head. "What?"

--------


	5. Digital Factory

**Chapter Five**

**Digital Factory**

Raiden grasped vainly at the closing circle. With it vanished her home, her family, her entire world. Even her own mind, she was shocked to discover, was filled with static. Memory was difficult; all she could be sure of was that she was in an alien dimension now.

Her kidnapper lurched down a wide dirt road, in the midst of a young, short treed forest. The creature was bowlegged and grimy, with yellow hands as hard as rock, fleshy vestigial wings, and a perpetual toothy grin. It wafted fear- not its own, but other people's fear. Raiden was determined not to be afraid; she kicked it, but it didn't seem to notice.

The forest soon tapered off, and a strong wind made itself felt. The road crossed a smoothly cresting hill, covered in short yellow grass. Swooping away from the outcropping were a long range of rocky foothills, with a few trees growing only in the valley where they were sheltered from the wind. On this shallow hill's highest point, a plain, black, rectangular building squatted.

It took a while before they neared the building; the nearness was deceiving. Close up, the building was massive, and it emitted something in great waves… Raiden could only call it a presence. Of what, she wasn't sure. She gritted her teeth- already she was getting tired of this confusion. Keeping her slung over its shoulder, her captor shambled to the side of a massive door, closed with interlocking teeth. It licked a shiny pad, grunting, and suddenly a section of the wall above it dissolved into mist. The two dimensional image of a woman appeared in the hole.

The woman was pale, and dressed in black and royal purple. Black ribbons and wings fountained from her back. Her perfect hair was black, and topped with a bizarre ivory crown. From the look of hate in her lovely eyes, Raiden guessed she wore black because it matched her soul. The woman opened her mouth only slightly, and spoke in a voice that was half way between a purr and a mechanical growl. "Welcome home, Vilemon. I see you've brought me the very first human of the season. Please, step inside, and we shall discuss how to reward you."

Vilemon, whose name sounded extremely suitable to Raiden's mind, grunted happily as the gate laboriously parted. Raiden tried again to struggle against Vilemon's immovable arms, finding her voice at last. "I'm not going in there! That vamp wants to eat me, doesn't she!" she yelled.

As the mists re-solidified into a wall, the woman tittered. "They always struggle so, don't they? I've always thought humans fought with so little dignity. So little ceremony. It's to be expected among animals, of course."

Vilemon lugged Raiden, kicking and screaming, into the gloomy building. Inside, gears turned, pistons labored, and wires writhed like living things, all for some mysterious purpose that escaped Raiden. A broad, flat concrete path plowed through the metallic jungle, without any guard rails. It seemed to extend forever, even farther than the building's massive exterior had suggested, but Vilemon seemed to be walking a little more quickly. At intervals, Raiden saw other creatures at work on the machines, either glimpsed through the tangle, or standing on the edge of the path. Practically no two were alike, but they were all twisted and strange, horned and fanged and armored. And they all turned to look hungrily at Raiden as she was carried past. Never before had she felt so weak and threatened.

Finally the path came to an end at a dull gray wall. The machines scraped right up to it, as if eager to spread and grow. There was a polished electrum door, as wide as the walkway, and almost as high as the ceiling. Leaning against the center of the door with its arms crossed was a blue skinned humanoid. The humanoid description was pushed, though, as it had a tail and lizard face. Its helmet and armor appeared to be made out of large cracked eggshells, painted with black and red flames. It had claws as long as Raiden's forearm, appearing useless for grabbing but perfect for disemboweling, and a metallic blade on its nose. Its underbelly was an unhealthy green, and badly scarred.

It leaned forward lazily and sniffed Raiden. "Ooh, will you taste that? Makes me think of the good old days. I wonder if Boss will share some?" Its voice could have belonged to a handsome human man.

Vilemon snorted, blowing a glob of snot into Raiden's shoe. "I doubt it, Flamedramon. You know she's against those sorts of sentiments," it croaked.

"I prefer to be called _Corrupted_Flamedramon," Flamedramon corrected, leaning back against the door. "Seeing as my content has been altered."

"Yeah, whatever. That takes too long to say. Corrupted is right, though. I don't want you to get all sentimental over the human. You were always too good with them. Are you going to let us through or not?"

Flamedramon sighed and stuck his claws in an indentation in the door. When he pulled them out, the door slid back into the wall, revealing a monotonous corridor, large and small doors spaced evenly down its ridiculous length. "I'm getting better at controlling my cravings. Do you want me to escort the girl, just, you know, to prove it?"

"What did I just say, Flamedramon? Boss has her eye on you," Vilemon warned. "If she even believes you're _thinking _about trying any heroics, you'll be deader than an empty room." With that, Vilemon carried Raiden through the door.

Before the door shut again, Raiden heard Flamedramon say, "I know, I know. But don't you also ever wonder if there's something better than data?" Vilemon paid it no notice. The sentry known as Flamedramon might scare the hell out of Raiden, but she had a feeling that beneathitsfrustrated demeanor,it was still noble at the core. She didn't know what made her feel this.

Vilemon stopped at a bolted, human sized door. He licked a panel beside it, and, similar to what had happened at the front gate, the door dissolved. Vilemon dropped Raiden painfully, and held out a yellow hand. "Take off your clothes," it instructed.

Raiden reacted strongly. "No way! I'm not an animal, and I have my dignity!" She wrapped her arms around her bosom.

Grabbing her by the throat, Vilemon snarled at her. "You're in no position to worry about dignity. Such concerns are above your station. Get those clothes off, and you can have the new dress that Dokugumon was so generous to spin."

Reluctantly, since there was undoubtedly no other choice, Raiden changed out of her jeans and t-shirt. Once it had collected her clothes- Raiden noticed it sniffing them- Vilemon pushed her into the room and sealed the door.

Raiden bounced as she hit the floor. Looking around, it appeared the room was made of yellow rubber-or gelatin, though in the static, Raiden couldn't quite remember what gelatin was. There was a rubber bed, without a pillow, upon which clothes of a sort had been placed. Raiden quickly put them on. The shoes looked more like bandages, and the white dress was covered in a spidery pattern. Raiden had a vague suspicion that there ought to be something to go under the dress, but decided to take what she could get, and not be swayed be vague suspicions. For the second time, she cursed this inexplicable mind fog. The clothes were of a soft silk, though Raiden also suspected that such hospitality was inadvertent.

For she didn't know how long, Raiden sat in the room, until she began to get restless. Every minute she expected a hungry monster to come in and take her. She was feeling quite hungry herself. As she thought this, the floor dipped in the center. Raiden slid down the slope, with no handholds to stop her fall. Just as suddenly as it had dipped, then, the floor sprung flat again, with a boing that sent Raiden flying. She landed safely in a wobbly corner. From the dip, also, sprung a bunch of bananas, which landed heavily. They were solid yellow, with no spots of black or green or anything. Cautiously, Raiden approached the fruit. For some strange reason, she was reassured by the fact that it wasn't ticking.

She pulled a banana off the bunch, peeled it- the inside was the same yellow color as the peel- and took a bite. Immediately, she spat it back out. The piece of fruit bounced; it was made of rubber. Well, what Raiden really wanted was something to drink, anyway.Upon the thought, asmall cup formed in the floor, and some of the ceiling dripped into it. Raiden scowled, not even wanting to try and drink it.

So awhile longer she waited, growing hungrier and thirstier and more afraid. She even tried to break her way out several times, but she merely bounced off the walls. The bouncing was extremely powerful, and the walls and floor were soft. In less dire circumstances, Raiden might have had fun. As she was sitting despondently on the bed, another disturbance came.

The room rumbled and quaked, and Raiden feared for her life. The floor ripped open in the center, exposing a tangle of machinery, as in the first part of the building. Something forced its way through the hole; it was a metal pole, with a speaker on the top. A screeching, echoing mechanical voice issued from the speaker.

"I am Machinedramon. I control this entire factory. You are Raiden DeLiberato, the human who was brought here by Vilemon?"

After being frightened initially, Raiden quickly gained courage. She didn't wonder how Machinedramon knew her name. "If you control this factory, then how about you let me out of this prison?" she hazarded.

"Permit me to rephrase that," Machinedramon apologized politely. "I operate the factory, but I receive orders from another, orders I am unable to disobey. I have been directly ordered not to free you. However, I have kept secrets from the mistress, and those secrets are my reason for intruding upon you."

"Who is this mistress everyone talks about?" Raiden interrupted curiously.

Machinedramon hesitated. "She is called Lilithmon," it said.

"Lilith…" automatically, Raiden's hand passed across her chest in the shape of a cross. She wasn't sure what made her want to do that. But even so, the name made her afraid.

"Lilithmon is possessed of terrible power, and commands her followers through pain and fear. Other than a twisted few like Vilemon, there are none who willingly serve her."

Raiden was silent. Machinedramon paused, and spoke again. A compartment opened in its pole. "Reach inside, and you will find my secret. I have saved it for the first person I could trust to pass it on to."

"It's a trap," gasped Raiden. Upon hearing this, a horrible creaking boomed through the speaker. Raiden wasn't sure if Machinedramon was laughing or crying.

"Oh, were I but that subtle," it moaned. A robotic arm extended from the compartment, and dropped what it was holding in front of Raiden. There were three items. One was a tiny chip of obsidian, with a red emblem embedded in the side. One was a vaguely triangular device, bronze and yellow, with three buttons and a screen. The third item was a golden egg. Machinedramon explained somewhat. "There are objects that will help you survive in this world. But they are secondary. Within the Digi-egg is what a human might call my child, a Digimon made from parts of myself. Lilithmon is not aware if his existence. I need you to get him out of here, as I do not want a life of slavery for him."

After that, Raiden couldn't not trust Machinedramon. Not wanting to appear too ignorant, Raiden didn't ask what a Digimon was. But she couldn't avoid saying, "If you can't get me out, how am I supposed to escape?"

"Even the weakest Digimon has the strength to break out of this room…. But I must go now. Mistress is becoming suspicious." The speaker withdrew, back beneath the floor, which sealed seamlessly, as if it had never been broken. Raiden was left alone, not sure what to think.

Sheslipped the chip and device into a fold in her dress. Then she curled up, hugging the egg like a security blanket. The egg grew warm from her body heat, and she felt a bit like a mother bird. It wasn't long when the egg started to shake. Raiden held it out and inspected it. A crack was already splitting through the middle of the egg. Before she had time to react, the egg erupted in a shower of shell fragments. Raiden now held in her hands a small round creature. It had no arms or legs, only a pipe that served as a tail. It had a beak, and two ridges on its back. Its yellow skin had a metallic sheen. It looked up at Raiden with large beaming eyes, and took a deep breath.

Neither one of them noticed the triangular device's screen turning on in the precious, awkward moment. A voice introduced the new arrival. "Imon, a newborn baby Digimon. He may look helpless now, but with love and attention, he will grow up big and strong." Raiden had a feeling that this didn't usually happen, but was grateful anyway.

Imon smiled and chirped. "Wooow, you have really tasty chi! Can we be friends?"

Raiden smiled back. "Yes, lets be good friends. Who else do we have?" She looked around. "I'm not sure you realize this, but we're trapped. Your… parent said that you can get us out. Can you?"

"I know," responded Imon, surprising Raiden. It took another deep breath, and spun around to face a wall. It spoke a short phrase which, it seemed, reacted with the core of this world, whatever that was, and produced a tangible effect. The words were **"Bubble Blow," **and the effect was Imon's breath becoming a bubble of air. The bubble must have had special qualities of some sort, because it cut through the rubber wall, leaving a ragged hole.

"You're incredible, Imon," breathed Raiden. She scooped up the baby Digimon, who was almost physically swelling with pride in the praise.

"We should save the egg shell. It'll come in handy if I have to Digivolve in difficult circumstances," Imon advised. Raiden didn't ask what Digivolution was, or how Imon knew so many words. The shell had somehow pulled itself together again, but after everything else, Raiden wasn't overly surprised. She took it in the other hand, and leapt through the hole to freedom.

--------

Minutes later, Lilithmon stormed into the room. "All right, Machinedramon, what's this silliness?" she snapped.

But the room was empty.


	6. Digital Power

**Chapter six**

**Digital Power**

The hole in the wall closed behind Raiden as she landed in the next room. This medium-sized room seemed to be a different kind of prison; there were rows upon rows of steel cages. Inside each cage was a red rabbit sized creature with blue stripes and a fan like tail. Wires had been pasted to their skin, and ran across the floor to a giant pillar of a battery in the middle of the room. Some of them would light up with short bursts of sparks.

The little device Raiden had stuffed in her shoe began to beep, so she pulled it out. Out of its blue-lit screen, a three-dimensional picture was projected of one such creature, minus cage and wires. A human voice came from the device. "Elecmon (rookie) loves making mischief, and is very proud if its luxurious tails. It discharges electricity seemingly at random, using attacks like Sparkling Thunder and Lightning Knife."

"A field guide. Useful," Raiden mused. Upon seeing her and Imon, the Elecmon perked up, and many hustled to the edges of their claustrophobic cages.

"Hey sweet," said one nearby, "Could you let us out of these cages? At least loosen up these wires."

Another waved its tails alluringly. "Aren't I cute? Don't you want to take me home?"

One talked frankly with Imon. "You look like a mon of the world. Listen, I got some good business connections back home. You break me out, I could hook you up. And I mean that in a good way."

"Push off, you has-been," snapped one next to it. It then turned to Imon and Raiden itself, smiling sweetly with its wide mouth. "I know you want to free us, because it's the right thing to do."

"They're not gonna listen to you. No one's an altruist anymore," the businesslike Elecmon grumbled.

Imon whispered to Raiden, "They're like Hyenamon, don't you think?"

Raiden felt sorry for the poor desperate prisoners. It looked like they were being used to generate power for something. She held up her hands. "I'll let you all out. No one should live like this," she told them. And then she got to work. The cages didn't have doors; they must not have been meant to be opened. So she ripped a heavy pipe off the wall, and smashed the nearest cage. The Elecmon inside jumped back.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," it wheezed. Raiden pulled the wires off it, leaving a few bald spots. For awhile, it just sat in place, feeling its de-wired skin. Then it hopped out and paraded ecstatically around the room.

Sitting on Raiden's shoulder, Imon tapped her. "That pipe you ripped off- it carries natural gas. We have to get out of here fast, or we'll all suffocate." Raiden nodded, and hurried.

As more Elecmon were free, they began to help one another. It took three Elecmon to remove the wires from the skin of a fourth. Some stayed in their cages, barely believing they were free at last. By the time everyone was out, Raiden was feeling dizzy- probably from the gas, or the work, or both. Imon used his Bubble Blow to open the locked door, and shouted at the Elecmon until they were all out. "We'll have set off an alarm by now, so we'll need to be long gone soon," he warned Raiden.

--------

Mist swirled in front of Lilithmon. The face of one of her subordinates appeared. "M-mistress… bad news. Someone or something has sabotaged the auxiliary power."

Lilithmon tossed her head. "We can spare it. Still, get one or two of your mons to round up the Elecmon."

"Yes, mistress."

The mist faded. Lilithmon wagged a finger. "Machinedramon?"

Machinedramon's mechanical speech echoed from nowhere. "What is it, mistress?"

"The auxiliary generator is adjacent to the cell block, is it not?"

"…Yes, it is."

"Thank you. You may continue. Make sure to remind the idiots I just sent out to look for an apparenthuman, too. And spank them if they slack off, will you?"

--------

Raiden and Imon tiptoed down the silent main corridor. The Elecmon, surprisingly, tried to remain silent. "There's only two exits from this place," Imon whispered. "One is a small tunnel in Lilithmon's private suite. The other is the main door. Lilithmon's rooms are locked with a deadly energy barrier, and are only unlocked by her unique data signature. So that's out of the question. We have to risk the front door."

"How do you know so much? You've only just hatched," Raiden inquired.

"Machinedramon had been downloading information into me since I was created," explained the metal Digimon.

They reached the big door. Would Flamedramon help them? Raiden wasn't sure. "I think the shift has changed. Boogiemon will be on guard," Imon supplied. Raiden was impressed. The baby must have all of Machinedramon's knowledge of the factory. "And Boogiemon definitely will not help us."

One of the Elecmon raised its paw. "We would normally be able to break the door down with our combined power… But all our energy has been sucked into this factory…"

"That's all right," Raiden reassured them. "We'll find another way." She herself was surprised at how motherly she was behaving around the little creatures. Though she wasn't quite sure what 'motherly' meant.

Imon hopped in front of the barrier. "I might be strong enough to break the door down. Not as I am now, though." He looked at Raiden. "But with you, Raiden, I think I have a bond of sorts. You were holding me when I hatched."

"How will that help?" Raiden was confused.

It was an Elecmon who spoke first. "I get it… The more data we Digimon collect, the more energy we have. The stronger we are. But I heard that what you get in the Real World, whaddaya call it… Oh yeah, chi! I heard chi was much, much more potent than data." It smiled, pleased to know something someone else didn't.

"Last year, Lilithmon traded two hundred megabytes for a drop of chi," Imon added. "But I think that you, Raiden, could channel as much of your tasty chi as you wanted into me, if you use that transfer device."

Raiden looked at the yellow plastic object in her hand. "I thought it was… a dictionary sort of thing."

"A Digivice has many functions."

The Elecmon seemed startled by this statement. Some gasped. Raiden turned her head. "What about…?" her voice trailed off.

"That stuff is only supposed to exist according to legend," gasped one Elecmon.

"A culturally informed mon would know that it is in fact real," said another, possibly the business one.

Raiden held it out, with a serious expression. Something about the whole 'according to legend' thing made her feel important. She wasn't sure she trusted any 'Digimon', but, deeper down, she realized she'd trust Imon with her life any day. "All right, how do I use it?"

"Just concentrate your energy on me. The rest should come naturally," said Imon.

Raiden focused. She thought hard about Imon, and imagined energy flowing from her to it. She imagined the energy as a golden stream. All of a sudden the Digivice began to beep again. She opened her eyes and looked at the screen. It had turned green, and read 'Activate Infinity Digivolution. Press middle button to confirm.'

Raiden pressed the middle button, and, just as she imagined, a starburst of golden energy erupted around her hand, and flowed to Imon. It surrounded him in a cocoon, which grew in size as more chi was transferred. Raiden staggered. While Imon grew stronger, she was becoming tired. 'Press lower button to end' said the Digivice. She pressed it, and cut off the flow of chi.

The cocoon was slowly absorbed into the body inside it. It didn't look like Imon anymore. It was a small robotic creature, standing on two metal feet, whose head was about as high as Raiden's waist. A bronze visor covered a face of yellow-white metal. The body was also the same yellow-white. Two bronze pipes stuck out of his back, and a pair of wide bronze blades hung in front of his body. A cord and plug was his tail now. "Imon digivolved to Angolmon," he announced. "Straight to Rookie. Not bad."

Raiden slumped on the floor, panting, but she smiled. Some of the Elecmon patted her on the back and whispered congratulations to her and Angolmon. Digivolution was a big deal.

Angolmon thought. "Let's see… My attacks seem to have more destructive power than those of the Elecmon. I may be able to do this. Stand back, everyone!" Raiden crawled, and the Elecmon scurried to a safe distance.

The pipes in Angolmon's back began to glow red-hot. He barked the command words. **"High-Impact Cannon!"** and two fiery missiles flared from the tubes. The both struck the door in the same place, leaving a smoldering crater. He attacked again and again, and soon had a passable hole in the door.

Raiden peered through the hole, and was startled by a bloated red face. It shouted at her. "Why, if it isn't some escapees! How'd you get out?"

A hologram glowed from the Digivice. It was of a humanoid with garish red skin and a swirling pattern on its pot belly. It had undersized purple bat wings, and a devil tail. It carried a black pitchfork. Basically a classic depiction of the devil- with any luck, it'd be sweet and kind.

"Boogiemon (champion) is malicious and cowardly. It enjoys frightening small children and weaker Digimon, and embodies the fear of small, dark places. It attacks with Death Clash and Ruby eye." No such luck, Raiden supposed.

Boogiemon climbed through the hole, seemingly oblivious to the molten metal still un-cooled, and leering. "I've been waiting for someone to try to break out. This will be so much fun, and Lilithmon will probably reward me to boot!

"Which one of us are you gonna delete first!" called an Elecmon; whether it was out of fear or defiance, Raiden wasn't sure.

Boogiemon scanned the amassed Elecmon. "That one, who's sticking its tongue at me," it said. **"Death Clash!" **

Raiden pulled the Elecmon, who was now blowing raspberries furiously, out of the way. And not a moment too soon- a pair of ax blades materialized out of nowhere and smashed into the spot the Elecmon had just been standing in.

"**Charge Attack!" **bellowed Angolmon. Fire flew from the soles of his feet, and he flew at Boogiemon. The devil Digimon swatted him away with its trident. Algolmon flew back around, around and around, but was repulsed every time. Boogiemon leered and rolled its eyes at Angolmon, which only made him angrier. As Angolmon got angry, his flights became more reckless.

Eventually, Angolmon flew in too low an arc, and left himself wide open. Boogiemon aimed its pitchfork at him, and announced **"Ruby Eyes!"** Its eyes glowed red, and red light pulsed down its pitchfork. The light crashed into Angolmon, blasting him into the wall. He shrunk back into Imon. Boogiemon cackled obscenely. "Heehehehe! Who's next!"

Raiden heard a single footstep behind her. She craned her neck, and looked up at the blue and red of Flamedramon. "I am," he said.

Boogiemon cackled again. Was it just Raiden's imagination, though, or was this laughter fake, and nervous? "Lamedramon!" it chortled. "What are you playing at?"

The blue dragonoid jumped over the huddled group of Elecmon, landing gracefully in front of Boogiemon. He shoved his claws around its face, which squished, unhurt, like an octopus fitting into a crevasse. In a slightly hampered voice, Boogiemon squealed.

"**Flame Fist!" **growled Flamedramon. Fire glowed across his talons, and enveloped Boogiemon. As the flames shrunk, Boogiemon's body shattered, bloodlessly, into countless pieces.

Raiden stood up hesitantly, then bounded to Imon's side. She cradled the baby Digimon in her arms. A few of the bolder Elecmon were crowding around Flamedramon, complimenting him on his strength. The business Elecmon was offering him a job. Raiden, too, approached Flamedramon.

"Did he… suffer?" she asked. A part of her couldn't believe she was concerned about someone who'd just attacked her. But that part was distant.

"No," Flamedramon assured her, as the flecks spun away in all directions. "Hopefully he'll make a new start in life, from the beginning."

Flamedramon slid his claws into the door, opening it properly. Raiden cocked her head at him. His expression was so serious. "This wouldn't count as… heroics, would it?" she asked, only half joking.

Flamedramon smiled, though to Raiden's judgment, it seemed rather forced. The Elecmon tumbled joyfully down the concrete lane. "No, this is entirely selfish."

"I think it's very heroic."

"Don't tempt me."

They raced straight to the door, at every step worrying that they'd be caught by one of Lilithmon's henchmen. Flamedramon didn't seem worried about them, though. Even when they could have taken them, the many creatures populating the factory didn't bother to. _It must be true then, what Machinedramon said, _Raiden thought._ Only a very few people actually want to help Lilithmon. These guys can pretend they hadn't seen us, so they let us pass. _She also realized that, after meeting friendly Digimon- Machinedramon, Imon, Flamedramon, and the Elecmon- these creatures didn't seem quite so monstrous.

Flamedramon stopped them at the door out. He turned to Raiden and Imon, and passed Raiden a fluffy pink orb. "That will revive Imon," he explained. Raiden placed the orb on Imon, and it sunk into him. Imon rolled over, awake. "Now… I'll let you out if you promise me something."

Imon seemed to understand what was going on. He and Raiden nodded slowly. Flamedramon took a deep breath. "Where has all that courage gone?" he whispered to himself.

"Go on," said Raiden, nodding again encouragingly. "I promise I'll do what you ask."

"Find a human named Daisuke Miyamoto, and give him this message _exactly_: 'Veemon is alive. Go to http/o$en54tr ve.gemini.'"

"That'll be hard to remember… but I'll try," Raiden promised, smiling.

"Then go!" Flamedramon practically ripped his claws through the door. As light spilled blindingly into the darkness, a black winged figure appeared at the end of the hall. It flew rapidly at the group, all the while shouting at the Digimon who had ignored them.

"You traitors! Do I have to do everything myself!Remind me to show you what you should do to enemies!" She landed on Flemedramon, tackling him. Raiden recognized the woman who had commanded Vilemon. Was this Lilithmon? She spat and snarled at Flamedramon like a wild cat. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you! I should have listened to my own judgment, lord knows it's the only good advisor I'll ever have. From now on I'll send all _heroes _packing! **Nazar Nail!**"

She stabbed her delicate fingernails into Flamedramon's chest. But she pulled them out almost immediately, because Imon had bitten her wrist with his metal beak. Flamedramon stood up, clutching his wound. It seemed much larger than should have been inflicted by those small nails.

Raiden's eyes darted between Imon and Flamedramon. She glanced down at the Elecmon. Who should she help? She couldn't chose between any of these people.Then she looked at her Digivice. She clutched it to her breast and focused with all her heart on everyone she cared about. She barely noticed the golden mist that floated out of her, and rained down on every Digimon she thought of. And the area around the door turned into a sea of data, as Imon and the Elecmon all spun cocoons around themselves.

When the cocoons lifted, Raiden couldn't see. She was surrounded by a forest of gray and blue fur. The Digivice, which until then had displayed the words "Mass Infinity Digivolution," now projected an image of a wolf-like creature with stripes of dark gray and light blue. Plumes of fur similar to an Elecmon's tail grew around its neck, shoulders, back legs, and along kinked tail. It had long red claws and a gaping mouth. "Garurumon (champion), has fur as hard as any armor imaginable! Its sense of smell letsit findits prey wherever it may hide, asit attacks with Ice Wall and Howling Blaster!"

Every Elecmon, now Garurumon, leaned back and howled out the attack, **"Howling Blaster!" **A gale of wind blasted out of their mouths, and blew even Lilithmon back. Angolmon steadied himself with his rocket feet, and landed in Raiden's arms. She kissed him.

Realizing that even a mighty Digimon like herself was outmatched against so many champion level Digimon, Lilithmon turned tail and ran. Perhaps her gaze lingered on those teeth and claws, or perhaps it bored maliciously into Raiden herself. As she retreated to her room, the factory workers began to applaud. The Garurumon preened and strutted, faced with all this attention. Raiden beamed.

"This isn't over. Lilithmon will be back as soon as the Garurumon de-digivolve," Angolmon warned. Raiden acknowledged, and Angolmon shouted at the wolves. "Come on, out the door, toot sweet! You want to stay here? Hut hut!"

Sheepishly, they all slunk outside, with Angolmon hovering after them like a sheep dog. Raiden and Flamedramon, chest healed, followed.

"You have a lot of chi in that little body. I thank you for giving me a taste, after so long," Flamedramon nodded respectfully to Raiden. The Garurumon frolicked joyfully into the wilderness, calling fond farewells to Angolmon and Raiden. Golden sunlight made the hills misty and beautiful. A perfect place for a young Digimon to find a future. Peace and happiness filled Raiden's heart.

Flamedramon looked away. "I must part ways with you, too. I have a lot of catching up to do, now that I can't go back _there_."

Raiden patted him on the shoulder, in a comradely sort of way. "I understand, I think. No one can stop a mon like you."

Flamedramon looked at her, surprised. Then he grinned ear to ear, and took off, laughing out loud at some private joke.

Angolmon floated back to Raiden's arms, and she accepted him contentedly. Despite being made out of metal, he wasn't heavy. He would get stronger; Raiden knew he would. As she took the first step away from the ugly factory, Raiden realized she could remember everything since coming to this strange, yet familiar world. Perfectly.

--------


	7. Digital Doubt

**Chapter Seven**

**Digital Doubt**

Gradually, Gen awoke. The first thing he noticed were green sheets. The second was an unblemished tan ceiling. He rolled over, looking frantically around. _Where am I?_ Then his brain caught up with him. _Right. The new house._

Gen's new room was still sparsely appointed. The bed was there, and a few boxes were laid in a corner, with some books and clothes laid on top of them. Gen's computer was partially unpacked, and some foam peanuts were swept into a corner, though not picked up. The walls were white, but the ceiling had been painted- a mystery, since tan wasn't much of an improvement. It lacked the somehow reassuring crack that curled spider-like in the corner. Still, Gen relaxed.

Reclining stiffly near his head was a smiling stuffed animal. It resembled a brown dog with featureless ears and a tufted tail. It had no name, though his mom called it Inu-chan, or U-chan. Gen hadn't needed it to sleep since he was six years old, and sometimes wondered why he kept it. It was just a part of life, he supposed.

He examined his recent memories. Left Kim's house, turned up at the river for no explicit reason. Dinosaur attacks, fake Digivice turns on, puppy appears. Try to protect dog, get struck. Short blank space here. Last memory is a gentle voice and pungent smell. After that, dreams. Gen frowned, lying on his back. It didn't work. It would make sense for it all to have been a dream. He didn't remember how he got to the river, or how he'd returned to his new room, so the best he could assume was that he hadn't left. But he didn't remember coming home after visiting Kim, either.

Gen remembered what the dog had said. _If you're dreaming, why am I here too?_ He noticed how tidy the bed sheets were, as if it had been made while he was asleep. The Digivice was on the floor next to his bed, and it wasn't turned on. Too confusing. Gen felt like his memories were scrambled in the wrong order, in a very dreamlike way.

He slid groggily out of bed, his feet automatically taking him in the direction his closet used to be in. He pinched himself, and noticed he was still wearing his clothes from the day before. Light streamed through the two windows.

Gen wondered what to do. _Ask Kim. _Gen felt in his pocket, and found the paper. He still had the address, which was good, since he couldn't remember it at the moment. He'd just take couple of minutes to walk to her house, and ask Kim what she remembered him doing. It might look silly, but it would go a long way towards easing his mind.

So Gen left the room. Neither mother nor father was in the house; that was odd. He walked more quickly. Without realizing it, by the time he reached the door, he was running. Unheeded in his wake, a note fluttered off the new refrigerator. The note read, " Gen. If you wake up, we're at work. I called the school, so you're excused for today. Love, mom. " It landed on the table, next to the clock, which said 11:44 AM.

--------

Liz leaned towards Jasmine, who was standing behind her in the lunch line. "It's funny," she remarked.

"What's funny?" Jasmine asked. "Do you mean the way Bobby Jr. peed in the water fountain, 'cuz that was-"

"I mean, I haven't seen the new guy at all today. No one misses their second day of school."

Jasmine shrugged. "He's from Japan, right? Maybe today's a weekend over there, and he forgot."

"That makes sense," Liz accepted, nodding.

--------

While looking for the address on the paper, Gen began to suspect that he was in the wrong neighborhood. He'd started in the same direction he'd gone in the previous evening, but the house numbers were way off. _Better hurry, then. I'm impatient._ Gen wasn't sure if he'd thought that. He changed directions.

Eventually he saw a street sign with the same name as was written down. But he didn't recognize the street at all. This street was lined with single houses, not duplexes. The houses all seemed older, too. The ground slanted down from a hill, whereas Gen remembered Kim's street as being flat. And instead of evergreen bushes, the yards were full of leafy trees. He looked around briefly, but none of the other streets looked familiar. Could he have gotten the wrong address? Or had he dreamed the entire meeting with Kim, too? He shook his head, and pinched himself again. Gen was lost, anyway, not having memorized his own new address, either. His walk, which had ended up taking more than just a few minutes, was making him even more confused than before.

The house with the address written on the paper was stucco, with a tiled roof and slabs of rock pressed into the sides. The shady, attractive yard was full of ferns, ivy, and climbing roses, not yet in bloom. The many thick trees gave it a foresty look. A gravel path lead to a door made of a polished dark wood, with a frosted glass window. At the edge of the yard, perpendicular to the street, was a sign, carved with ornamental leaves and flowers, that said, "Sheryl Haring, youth counselor." Definitely a wrong address. Frilly curtains were pulled across the windows. Was it just Gen's imagination, or was someone peeking though the curtains on the right?

Out of curiosity, Gen decided to take a peek inside, since it was a business, and not a private residence. He pushed in the unlocked door, ignoring a feeling that he should be going back home. The room beyond was covered in green wallpaper, with a pattern of curling vines. The wall to wall carpet was thick, soft, and green, and there were two plush Victorian sofas on either side of the room. A soft light came from a couple of wall-mounted lights made to look like lanterns. Two closed doors similar to the one Gen had just entered through led to either side of the house. There was an ugly, droopy potted plant in the corner, with a large pink flower. Its sickly sweet scent filled the room.

Two women sat across from one another, one on each sofa. The first, sitting on the right, was short and plump, with a broad smile, rosy, wrinkled cheeks, and beady eyes twinkling with humor. She wore a gray and blue flowered dress, and carried a clipboard. She looked up as Gen entered, a pen tucked behind one ear. The second was Gen's mother. Or at least a woman who looked exactly like Gen's mother. This woman's hair reached almost to her waist, while Gen's mother had long since cut her hair short. She wore a red dress and soft brown gloves, and a wide-brimmed hat was pulled over her eyes, hiding them. She smiled, exactly the way she would if pleasantly surprised, and rested her head in the palm of her hand.

"Welcome," said the woman with the clipboard to a bewildered Gen. "We've been waiting for you."

--------

Darkness

--------

School ended without anything happening. That's what worried Kim. After last night, for nothing to happen today just rattled her. And Gen was missing, too. Mrs. Wightman said he only had a cold, but Kim was still concerned. What if someone was out there, plotting, while she sat in class, in the dark?

Nagainamon waited outside, keeping watch. Or, to Kim's uniquely shrewd pattern of guesswork, more likely sleeping. The time spent with Nagainamon after the Candlemon attack had been awkward, with both parties probing each other, trying to get used to one another's presence. But if Kim had to admit one thing that night, it was that she didn't know how to behave after a happy ending.

Also mentioned that night was this- Kim's father hadn't woken up through any of that racket.

Kim walked home. When no one was looking, Nagainamon walked beside her. They enjoyed a quiet, pensive moment, filled only with small sounds. Kim's shoes tapped on the sidewalk, and her clothes and hair rustled. Nagainamon's scales clinked subtly, with a different tone for each individual joint. Since it was spring, birds called out in loneliness. Kim looked sideways at the blue dragon Digimon. The fulfillment of her every wish and dream. No, that wasn't right at all. She had dreamed other things, before Digimon. What had she wished for then?

The cracking sound of tires on pavement crawled from behind. Kim nudged Nagainamon with her foot, whispering for her to hide. She looked at the driver, and saw it was too late. It was a single man in a blue-green SUV, wearing a necktie but no coat, and he had seen them. He wobbled, and, Kim wasn't sure, but this was what it looked like, fell over while clutching the wheel. The car turned with a screech and accelerated alarmingly. Kim jumped out of the way as the front wheels hit the curb, and the car flipped over onto the grass. The windows cracked, the doors bent, and the alarm turned on.

Kim was stunned for a second, but caught herself. She yanked on the broken door, but it didn't even move an inch. The man inside was handing upside down, unconscious, sliding out of his seatbelt. His forehead and cheek were bent; a faint smear of blood showed where he had bashed against the steering wheel. Where were the airbags? Kim immediately suspected an attempted murder, but accused herself of paranoia almost as quickly. She pulled a few more times at the door, before Nagainamon pushed her aside.

"Let me handle this. Electron Stream!" The words this time didn't seem to have the same resonance. Nagainamon's pack whirred to life, and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She growled in frustration. "First I can't Digivolve, now I can't even use my attacks! What's happening to me!"

Kim took out her Digivice, and the stack of cards she'd carried around all day, tied with a rubber band. The Digivice's screen was blank; dead. Still, she pulled a card through the slit, shouting, because she wasn't sure it would work without her voice, "Digimodify- Greymon Activate!"

There was a sound like ripping cloth, and a small hole opened beneath Nagainamon. The hole was filled with yellow light. It wasn't nearly as large as the one that had appeared in Kim's backyard, only about the circumference of a baseball, but the Digivice's screen turned on, displaying the 'Transferring' signal. A wraithlike shape hovered for a moment over Nagainamon's head- it looked a lot like Graymon- before vanishing.

Fire kindled in the mouth of the surprised baby dragon. **"Nova Blast?" **she yelped, as the flames melted the metal car door. Kim pocketed the card, satisfied. Not waiting for things to cool down, she reached past the receding flames, and pulled the upside down man from his now-burnt seatbelt. He popped on the grass, with a small burn from the molten metal. Kim was just glad he wasn't trapped any more.

Nagainamon spat repeatedly, trying to flush the taste of smoke out of her mouth. "That was a… unique experience. I felt like I was possessed for a second there."

"Perhaps you can only use your special abilities near a sufficient source of data," Kim speculated out loud. "The Digivice, too. It's just a lump of plastic without a portal nearby."

Now that the man was part way rescued, it seemed best to put him in professional hands. Kim wondered where she could call for an ambulance. Looking around, she noticed for the first time that people had come out of their houses to inspect the source of the noise. There seemed to be something wrong with them, though. Though they looked at the stricken car, and, indeed, Kim and Nagainamon, they didn't seem to see any of it. One child ran up to the door behind his mother, took one look, and fell on his behind.

Nagainamon observed this, also. "People seem to go into a trance when they see me. It's been happening all day. Afterward, they make no mention of me, as if I wasn't there."

"Very weird. That didn't happen to me."

"We'd better leave. The man will have all the help he needs once the people here snap out of it."

--------

Kim got home, went into her room. Nagainamon came in, too. Kim turned on some techno music, and tried to do her homework. She soon realized that the unpleasantness of World War I atrocities didn't sooth the unpleasantness of what had just happened. She turned on her computer, planning on talking about it to her distant, faceless friends. She changed her mind before the page even finished loading. Finally, she spoke her worries to Nagainamon, who had been dosing on the oasis.

"Nagainamon… it was probably the way people go… out of it around you, that made the guy in the car crash. You almost killed a guy, just by… being there.

Nagainamon opened one eye, and growled. "You don't have to rub it in."

"I'm not blaming you. I'm just… I dunno, just gettin' a little angsty, I guess." Kim hung her head, and sat down hard on the carpet. "But I've got an excuse, 'cause the one thing I've dreamed of for two years turns out to be… well, I don't want you to have to worry about causing a crash just by walking outside."

Snorting once, Nagainamon rolled onto her back. "Spare me. I flew across a street once and nothing happened. The drivers could still keep their eyes on the road, just not on me. That crash was orchestrated by someone else."

--------


	8. Digital Manipulator

**Chapter Eight**

**Digital Manipulator**

It had been very tricky for Uchimon to take Gen home. He solved the problem of weight by resting the boy's head on a shattered board from the nearby disposal bin. The board still had three wheels on it, and made it possible, at least, for Uchimon to drag someone Gen's size.

The main problem had been locating the human's house. Uchimon had tried asking a man he saw walking up to the river. The man had a picture of a snake, or maybe a Waruseadramon, crawling up his back and neck. He had a ring through his nose- maybe he was someone's pet- and his head was shaven, revealing three large stitches. He carried a large brown sack, with a pair of stained sneakers sticking out the end.

Uchimon approached him. "Excuse me… Would you recognize this human?" he asked politely.

The man froze slowly. His shoulders sagged, and his grip on the bag loosened. There was a muffled squeak from inside, as whatever was contained began to wriggle. "I... don't… know… where… he… lives…" said the man, with labored slowness. He looked at some point about four and a half feet above Uchimon's head.

"Allright," Uchimon accepted. He moved on, walking backwards to pull Gen. The sack rolled off the stunned man's shoulder. It shed the cloth that had been wrapped around it, and some thin gray cords, and shuffled speedily away without a backward glance. Uchimon took note of it- a skinny human, shorter than the man, but taller than Gen, wearing a damp white polo shirt and jeans, and night black hair in sloppy braids. As soon as Uchimon turned around the corner, the taller man shouted and ran in the direction of the escapee.

Then Uchimon remembered that a Digivice registered its wielder's essence upon first contact. Or wait, did it choose the user based on a predetermined signature? Uchimon couldn't remember; he should have paid more attention when the Gatekeeper spoke with friends. Well, it didn't matter. The point was, he'd be able to trace wherever Gen had been recently through that recording. He pried the Digivice loose from Gen's grip. Even in sleep, he seemed to have held on to it.

The screen seemed a little dull; the power was running low. Uchimon pressed a few buttons, thinking hard to recall how it was used. Eventually, a white arrow appeared on the screen, pointing left. The left mini-screen was also lit up- but so was the right one. The left screen was dark gray, and the right one was a light gray. Uchimon couldn't remember if the lighter colors meant a stronger trail, or the darker colors.

He told the Digivice to search for only the strongest trails, and the arrow disappeared altogether. Uchimon supposed that meant Gen didn't pass this way often. Frustrated, as most people quickly become with unfamiliar technology, Uchimon searched until only one path lit up. The arrow pointed right, and the right mini-screen was white. He went that way.

The arrow always pointed to the strongest signal, so as the trail thinned in time, it began to waver towards Gen himself. But finally Uchimon reached the place where all the lights turned on. A building on a street corner, made of bricks in shades of red, with dark gray- almost black- shingles. The yard was mostly dirt, mixed with some sort of green grains, but there was grass around the edges, and in patches in the middle. Tiny bushes grew beneath the windows. The windows themselves, with shadows behind, were filled with some sort of reflective power.

For someone as small as Uchimon, dragging a boy was naturally exhausting work. The puppy Digimon wanted to just curl up in the clump of tall grass that grew by the driveway and fall asleep. But if he abandoned Gen here, the deed would be only half done. So, he took several short, deep sniffs, and pulled up the walk.

The door was another problem. It was locked. Uchimon had heard about locked doors. And he knew all about locked gates. The Sunset World was essentially one big locked gate. Almost all of Uchimon's life, he had been stopped by the locks on the Sunset World, so he certainly wouldn't let himself be stopped by this lesser barrier. **"Floral Blade"**, he muttered. He twitched his tail, and the petals on the tip grew sharp. With three quick slits, a square hole was cut in the base of the door. He continued on his way.

Gen didn't quite fit, but with a little pulling and twisting, Uchimon could squeeze him through. The human didn't wake up at all, even when his arm was twisted behind his back by canine jaws. Uchimon felt a little badly about treating someone like this, but shrugged the feeling off. It was what had to be done.

Uchimon scooted backwards stealthily through a long room with white walls and sheets of bare woodfor the floor. Near the end, by a door made of white painted wood and the same strange substance from the windows, was a square of pale artificial grass, and something that looked a little like a dead sapling tree. A warm brown wide-rimmed hat was hung on it, along with a loose cotton scarf, died blotchily. Sided by a row of poles was a staircase. Uchimon couldn't discern what was at the top; gee, this was exciting.

Bear in mind that there were no people living in the Sunset World. No people meant no houses. So everything about this place was strange to Uchimon. At the top of the stairs- which Uchimon also felt bad about dragging Gen over, wincing every time his head bumped- was another long room. There were doors on each side, but only one was open. That was a relief- the Digivice had turned off completely, which meant that Uchimon was too far away from a hot spot to confidently use any of his abilities.

The room was empty, save a bed and a few boxes. It had a lonely feeling to it, as the moonlight languished on the bare, clean floor. Uchimon would never have guessed that humans lived so dully. He had heard they were strange and eccentric creatures in person.

He managed to leaver Gen's head onto the bed, then jumped uponthe mattressand pulled the feet in after. The boy began to snore softly, as Uchimon pulled the green covers over him. Fastidiously, he flattened out a few wrinkles, and nudged Gen till he rolled onto his back. He placed the Digivice, which he had been holding in the cup of his tail-flower, on the floor next to the bed. The room looked more lived-in already. Then Uchimon left. His work here was done.

Though his heart burned with desire to explore this strange world, Uchimon's body sagged with tiredness. After replacing the cutting of door, he curled up outside and tried to get himself to fall asleep.

--------

"Do you like Aqua?" Kim asked.

Nagainamon cocked her head. She still sat on the bed, a picture book- the story of David and Goliath- held in place by her petit talons. Kim reclined in the beanbag chair, for, some unwritten rule had been drawn up, stating that Nagainamon would _always_ get the bed if she wanted it. Kim's bookbag had been gutted. The adrenaline surge caused by a suspected plot allowed her to relax enough to do her homework.

"That would depend on what you mean," said Nagainamon carefully. She turned her head again, and squinted.

"It's music." Kim lifted the headphones off her ears. A wavering tune could be heard across the room. "Aqua's the name of the group." She placed the headphones on Nagainamon's head. "Where're your ears, anyway?"

Nagainamon smiled smugly. "I measure sound through my aura. Any more questions?" Her expression changed. "Oh… This music reminds me of talent night at the Quezzomon and Quezzomon's."

Now Kim got her chance to be confused. Her eyes crossed slightly. "_What?_"

"A hotel." Nagainamon clarified. "Can you take this off me?"

"Sure." Kim reclaimed the headphones. Before she quite had them on, she heard the door close. "Dad's home. You know, he didn't wake up at all last night."

"You've said that already."

Kim left the headphones on her bed, andstrolled downstairs, relishing the feel of the carpet, sliding her hand along the smooth banister. There was a little pocket of shade in the middle of the stairwell, due to the absence of light bulbs.

A pair of voices emanated from the living room. For half a second, Kim hoped that Gen was here. She had expected him to come before her dad returned, as he had before. Now that a Digimon was an acting factor, they would have been able to really move forward with their quest to find the Digital World. She wondered- nae, expected- if something had happened with the Digivice she had given him. It had looked almost exactly like the one that had appeared to her and Nagainamon.

But the voice accompanying Allen Kirkley was female. Kim paused in the kitchen, and threw herself against the wall separating it from the living room, arms spread. With theatrical sneakiness, she inched along the wall, finally peeking into the shady room beyond.

A thin, black leather coat was hung beside Allen's Holstein print leather coat. A shapeless red cotton hat hung above it. Allen sat on the couch with a shy, yet outgoing smile, his posture slightly cupped around a young woman. He was making a show of helping her to take off her shoes, and she appeared quite flattered. Who says chivalry is dead?

The woman had orange hair in a fat long braid, much darker and glossier than Kim's or Camilla's. She had a round face and light blue eyes, with sharp rosy cheeks. Her black velvet pants were loose but form-fitting, coyly showcasing her voluptuous legs. Kim noticed a roller, for scraping dust bunnies off of velvet, sticking out of her coat pocket. A gold cross- shaped broach was pinned to her red turtleneck. The woman's mouth was currently shaped in a breathless 'O'. This was odd. Allen had brought many women home since losing Camilla, but Kim had never seen him woo any of them.

"There should be chicken soup in the kitchen. Would you like some?" Kim's father asked politely. Kim slid across the linoleum floor in her socks, and hid in the closet. She opened the door a crack and peeked out. Allen strode to the pot of soup Kim had prepared earlier from a can, humming in a self-satisfied way.

The woman tiptoed up behind him in her unshod feet. She held her hands like a cat and pounced playfully onto his back. Just a small pounce, of course, but Kim had a mental image of her dad giving the lady an unwilling piggyback ride. Allen jumped, spilling some soup. It splattered on the stove, the floor, and his dressy striped shirt.

"Hey, now look what you've done," he whined. Then, seeing the woman's hurt expression, his own face softened again. "I'm sorry, honey. Here, I'll clean it up." He grabbed a rag off the counter, and bent down awkwardly.

The woman, who Kim decided to call Honey, bent down also, almost knocking heads with Allen. She put her hand over Allen's, and the rag. "No, I'll do it," she said.

It was all Kim could do to not make puking noises from behind the door. She made a mental note to draw a sign to put on the door during her dad's dates, a sign that said, "Warning, Adult Content," or something.

Giggling, both adults agreed to wipe the floor at the same time. When the spill on the floor was gone, they stood up together, their heads, again, coming dangerously close. Honey's lips lightly brushed Allen's cheek. Allen pulled her close, and kissed her back. Still only on the cheek, to Kim's relief. Not wanting to reveal herself, Kim would be forced to watch if they smooched.

Somehow, Kim just couldn't see this alluring woman as her mother. She'd be the kind of stepmother you saw in chick flicks (Kim didn't watch that kind of movie, not wanting to live in that kind of world, but Allen and Camilla had.), who was attached to only the father, and ignored the existence of the rest of the family.

Interrupting Kim's uncomfortable train of thought, Allen screamed. He fell away from Honey's embrace, his eyes rolling under his half-closed lids. He landed on his back on the floor, and lay there shaking. Honey freaked out for a second, and bit her fingernail so hard it snapped, but surprised Kim by quickly regaining her composure. She took the rag, soaked it in cold water, and placed it on Allen's forehead. Then she pulled him onto her lap, and cradled his shivering body like a mother, clucking softly and whispering in a soothing voice.

Allen's expression was so pained, Kim couldn't take it anymore. She burst from the closet, and slid to her father's side. Honey's eyebrows shot up, but she kept her attention on Allen. Kim faltered for a moment, not sure what to do. Then she remembered something she had seen, and held his hand. It shook energetically. The kitchen seemed very large just then, and the three of them as big as it had been. A very human moment, Kim reflected later.

"Has he ever had a seizure before?" Honey asked.

Kim shook her head no.

"I have a son who used to have them all the time."

Allen's face swiveled towards Kim. His eyes were sightless, but nevertheless were looking at her. His jaw opened and closed several times, before, shockingly, words came out.

They were awkward, but understandable. "I… have… Gen…. Come… and… get… him… if… you… dare…." Then he laughed briefly, in a high-pitched, giddy way. Kim's own mouth flapped open and closed, in amazement. Honey stared at him, confused and frightened. But as Kim squeezed her father's hand, it stopped shaking.

Allen's eyes reopened, his body stabilized, and his mouth changed into a perplexed frown. He looked at Kim, then up to Honey, then down at himself. He let out a small gasp, more of confusion than anything else.

Kim stood up, her hands clenched into fists. A heroic fire burned in her heart. "I have to go," she announced firmly. She ran up the stairs, into her room. "No time to explain," she barked to Nagainamon, who sat up, alarmed. She grabbed her Digivice, shoved her shoes on,and ran out again, not waiting for Nagainamon to follow.

She zoomed right past the kitchen, where Allen was getting up, dusting off with Honey's help. Both their heads turned to watch the girl go. Seconds later, Nagainamon flew after at full clip. Allen slipped, and would have fallen if not for Honey's arm.

Outside, Kim slowed down for a second, as Nagainamon caught up. She didn't remark upon beating the baby dragon in speed; she was in full serious mode. She spoke her line of reasoning, "There were two addresses on my desk- mine, and the therapist's. After Gen left, there was only one- mine. That may not be where he is, but it's a good place to start looking."

--------

The woman in the flowered dress ruffled Gen's hair. Bound hand and foot in a cellar, lying on a very primitive sawdust floor, the boy glared at her.

She conversed with the woman with the large hat. However Gen turned his head, she wouldn't let him see her eyes. Gen was certain now that she wasn't his mother, only someone who had disguised as her, perhaps to throw Gen off. Whoever had done so, however, had probably only been guessing at her appearance. Perhaps the woman had known her as a child, and built the disguise on the memory.

Gen strained to hear the whispers. It was an odd conversation. The woman in the flowered dress spoke in English, while the impostor mother spoke in Japanese, but they seemed to understand each other perfectly. One thing, said by the flowered dress woman, struck Gen particularly.

"I sent the message to his Digidestined friend. Through her father. Hehehe… I made sure he put on a great display. She should be charging here like a bullet from a gun, the fool."


	9. Digital Rescuers

**Chapter Nine**

**Digital Rescuers**

Kim stopped in front of the building. "You're sure this is the place?"

The sign did advertise a therapist/counselor, "Sheryl Haring". But Kim had expected something a little more… menacing. The house was a pleasant, one-story building, with a Mexican look. The yard was shady and overgrown, and quite inviting. Kim had always wished she had a yard like that, so she could pretend she was in the woods, miles from civilization.

"There are Digimon here. I'm sure this is the place," said Nagainamon, firmly.

Kim took a tentative step on the gravelly walkway, half expecting to set off a trap. The stones crunched, but that was the extent of it. She took another step, stopped on one leg, and looked around. Seeing nothing dangerous, she put both feet down again. Nagainamon rolled her eyes. With similar caution, Kim approached the door.

It was an ordinary-looking door, with the tasteful small window frosted, so you couldn't see inside. Not wanting to touch the doorknob directly, Kim wrapped her sleeve around her hand before turning it. Without a sound, the door swung open. A cold wind blew out of the room beyond, ruffling Kim's stiff hair, and making her eyes water.

The fell winddied down.Kim poked her head in and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. The room was empty. Incongruously to the house's outside, the walls were made of blocks of stone, with thorns climbing up them, and the floor was dirt and sawdust. On either wall, a torch guttered in a bracket. They gave off more smoke than light, yet there was no dark stain around them. The entire far side of the room was taken up by a stony stairwell, leading away and downward. Shadows pooled in its depths, almost literally.

No one seemed to be around, so Kim motioned for Nagainamon to follow her. Snorting, she flew over. As she looked into the room, she made an expression similar to raising an eyebrow, though she had no eyebrow to raise.

Kim opened her mouth to say something, some bit of advice, perhaps, but realized she had nothing to offer. So, she stopped stalling and tiptoed into the room. She tried to pull a torch out of its holder, but the crumbling wood split in two, and popped sparks all around. Kim sprung back. She stuck her burned hand in her mouth, in an attempt to sooth the pain. She tried again on the second torch, this time carefully. It stayed in one piece.

The partners continued on, down the stairs. They didn't go too far, the passage opening directly into a cold, bare stone corridor. There were no obvious light sources, other than Kim's torch. Nagainamon sniffed the air. "That smoke is getting to my nose," she complained. "They're down here, though."

The left side was a dead end, but the right end of the tunnel continued on, and turned. They walked that way. The soft floor meant their footsteps could be relatively quiet. At the end of the corridor was a black metal door. Bolts marched around its perimeter, and a steel padlock was affixed to a bar running across it. It may have just been Kim's imagination, but the padlock looked a lot like a scowling face. But it was unlocked.

"This is too easy," Kim muttered. Nagainamon nodded, eyes narrowed. Kim took a few strides backwards, and charged at the door. It burst open, and she jumped, landing dramatically in the middle of the room, legs spread, Digivice held in front of her like a police officer's badge. "All right, let the kid go, or you'll deal with me!" she shouted, even before she looked around.

The room was much like the one at the entrance, with another door instead of a staircase. In one corner stood Gen, working on untying his legs, with the ropes that once bound his arms lying, cut, on the floor. He stared wide eyed at Kim. Hiding behind his leg was what looked like a green onion with red eyes, tiny clawed feet, and a small mouth.

There was an awkward silence. Kim's Digivice turned on, projecting a sideways hologram. It had regained power. "Tanemon is a Digimon in training. It is but a small seed, which will some day grow into powerful evolutions."

The ice was broken, at least. "…So you got a Digimon, too, after all." Kim stated.

Gen grinned. "He was helping me out of here." He turned to Tanemon, taking a second to ruffle his leaves. "Isn't that right, buddy?"

Tanemon's eyes closed happily. He hopped and nodded, a full-body action.

Nagainamon snorted iridescently. Her claws massaged the sawdust floor. She whispered to Kim, "This isn't right. I'm getting way to strong a signal in here for just one in-training Digimon."

"Then keep on the lookout for hidden foes," Kim whispered back. She looked at Gen, who, having freed his ankles, stood up and moved his legs gently, to get blood flowing again. "So, who exactly kidnapped you?" she asked him.

Gen grimaced. "Puppetmon," he said. "He took control of my body, and took me down here. But now he's gone somewhere, and I can move again."

Kim scratched her head thoughtfully. "That makes sense… Dad was being controlled by someone… the dude in the car had been pulled down by some unseen force… Puppetmon must have been trying to kill us in a car crash!"

"Hold on, a car crashed into you- and missed?" Gen gasped.

"Yup! We were really lucky." Kim smiled for a second, before her face fell. "I'm still worried about him, though."

Nagainamon bit Kim gently on the ankle, "Kim, your-"

"HEY!" screamed Tanemon.

Kim's head jerked sharply in the leafy Digimon's direction. Gen and Tanemon exchanged a look. "We were going to look behind that door. To snoop around while Puppetmon is gone." Gen pointed to the door behind him.

Kim grinned wickedly. "Great idea! Who knows what he's been plotting, and we could mess it all up!"

Gen beckoned Kim over to the door, putting a hand on it, but not opening it. Kim followed. Nagainamon half sighed, half growled, and stayed where she was. "LOOK AT YOUR DIGIVICE, YOU MEATHEAD!" she bellowed. Kim stopped halfway, and held the Digivice before her eyes.

The screen was flickering uncertainly. But as Kim watched, an image finally solidified above it. It was of a pink and white creature, standing on its hind legs. Its eyes were on its three-fingered hands, which were the brightest pink on its body. Its entire white face was filled with a pink swirl, and two thick antennas curved from its brow to its cat-like feet. A pink star, radiating stripes, was emblazoned on its stomach. The creature was transparent, and it shimmered and glowed like a mirage. "Illusionmon (rookie) is a Digimon who both creates illusions and is made of illusions. Its favored attack is Unreal Maw, which swallows its enemy in a world of nightmarish visions."

"So…" Kim said slowly. As she watched, the picture flickered, and changed from that of Illusionmon, to an image of Gen. She gulped, and looked from the hologram to the boy next to her. He too was staring at the picture.

"Y-you don't think that, do you?" he asked, voice quavering. Kim poked him in the side. His top half slid sideways, while the bottom half didn't move, in a very unrealistic way. Kim ran. She dropped the torch, which fell through his foot.

Tanemon, who had been sitting so docilely by the fake Gen's feet, began to glow. It expanded smoothly, as if it were a curtain being blown against a glass pane, into the shape of the pixie in the hologram. Its features shimmered into those of Illusionmon.

Illusionmon raised one staring palm, and vibrated with the words, **"Unreal Maw"**. The floor beneath Kim, and beneath Nagainamon, appeared to sink into a whorl of swirling darkness. Kim, having braced herself for an illusory attack, resisted, and didn't fall.

Nagainamon had extended her wings, and was hovering a few feet above her hole. A dark wind seemed to be sucking at her, and slowly pulling her down. At the bottom of the hole were raw red jaws, snapping in anticipation. Kim grabbed hold of her partner, and pulled her away. She landed safely on all fours. _So we've survived the first attack, _Kim thought.

Nagainamon revved up her necklace, shedding an intense light in the dim room. They must have beenpractically on top of a hotspot. The power slammed through Nagainamon's eyes, and burst out of her mouth. **"Electron Stream!"** Instead of shooting at the Illusionmon, she aimed the bolt at the fake Gen. It cut through his middle, but instead of shocking him, it split him into two pieces. Kim had to avert her eyes.

The two chunks turned into two more Illusionmon. "That should be all of them," concluded Nagainamon.

"Good," Kim breathed. "Three'll be tough as it is."

Moving in unison, the Illusionmon spread into a circle and raised their hands above them. A ball of white light gathered in the center of the circle. At once, they mouthlessly spoke, **"Simulation Supernova!" **The orb expanded rapidly, but suddenly one side tore apart in wisps, and the entire thing rocketed into the left two Illusionmon. When the mist cleared, there was Nagainamon, pinning the rightmost Illusionmon to the ground.

_And now we've lived through two attacks,_ reveled Kim. She slid a card out of her pocket, and, smiling, pulled it through her Digivice. "Digimodify! Gatling Arm Activate!" An outline traced itself around Nagainamon's right arm, and filled out to become a many-barreled gatling gun.

Nagainamon licked her lips. She lifted the Illusionmon off the ground with her super powered arm, and threw it into the other two. Then she fired a round into the lot. The bullets came out as tiny lightning bolts.

One Illusionmon spoke the words, **"Energy Dome"**. It expanded into a bubble around the other two, and absorbed the attack. Nagainamon flew fast at the dome, using her momentum combined with the arm's weight to throw a mighty punch. It crashed through the 'bubbled' Illusionmon, shattering it into ordinary data. For a second, Nagainamon was haloed by the dancing lights. A savage tableau. The other two Illusionmon rolled out of the way, and the fist slammed into the wall, leaving a cracking dent.

"**Unreal Maw!"** the Illusionmon said again. This time the mouth appeared in front of Nagainamon, yawning wide with long needle-like teeth. Nagainamon whipped around to face it, glaring as if daring it to attack.

"**Dispel Charge!" **the dragon shouted. Her scales glowed luminescent orange, then erupted with countless tiny lightning bolts. She looked like the center of one of those novelty glass balls, with static bolts inside. If Kim's hair hadn't already been standing on end, it would have stood on end now.

The lightning burned tiny holes in the mouth, and quickly obliterated it. Nagainamon leered at the Illusionmon, perhaps unnecessarily. She followed up with another Electron Stream, reducing the Illusionmon to data dust. Thedata spun like a small dust devil for a few seconds, then was sucked under the closed door.

Nagainamon breathed out. She dismissed the Gatling Arm, which dissolved quietly into specks of black data. Kim, who had been watching wide-eyed, gave a short bout of applause. "You really are scary when you fight," she breathed.

The blue Digimon paused thoughtfully. "…You helped, I suppose." She said after awhile.

"We've been through this before, haven't we?" Kim asked, grinning. Nagainamon snorted. Kim turned to the door. "I wonder what's back there?"

"Another Digimon," answered Nagainamon, without missing a beat.

Without Kim's noticing it, the area had changed since the Illusionmon's demise. It was no longer a cold, gloomy dungeon. Instead, it was an ordinary room, though empty of furniture. The floor and walls were bare wood, except for a faded, moth-eaten throw rug. A window let in some daylight through the blind- the heck; they were still on ground floor! There was a door in front, a door behind, and a door Kim hadn't seen that lead to the right. They all looked to be an ordinary, rather unattractive grayish wood. Kim peeked through the door behind her. It lead outside. The yard was the same, with the exception of the sign. It now read, "For Sale, brought to you by Real Turf Realtors."

She looked through the door on the other side. Beyond was a room with white plastic blinds pulled over the windows, and a crude bear trap bolted to the floor. Kim wondered what it would have looked like had she looked while the Illusionmon were still around. In the corner, glowing yellow, was a gate. It was smaller than the one that had appeared in Kim's backyard, but still about the circumference of a tractor tire.

"Look in the last door," Nagainamon whispered from behind. Kim walked over to the third door, that had been concealed. She pushed it gently, and it creaked.

The next room sported some peeling red wallpaper, but was otherwise the same as the other two. The blinds had been drawn. In here was a computer, turned on, plugged into the wall. Sitting in front of the computer, with its back to the door, was some kind of wooden doll. A wooden cross on its back draped red strings, and it wore a red hat with a yellow bobble. As if to make sure it stayed put, the puppet was sitting on a body.


	10. Digital Decision

**Chapter Ten**

**Digital Decision**

Puppetmon flailed at the keyboard. "What is the meaning of this! The gate must be found!" it screeched discordantly, waving its white-gloved hands. Then it spun around at the sound of the opening door.

Kim stamped boldly into the room, arms crossed. "Stop sitting on that poor innocent kid," she ordered.

The puppet Digimon cackled jollily at the sight of Kim, slapping its knees. "You've walked right into my arms, little girl. My plan is working too well- this shall be too easy." Its voice sounded like creaking wood.

Nagainamon flew around Kim's legs, and landed between her and Puppetmon, her head lowered aggressively. She leaned into Puppetmon's personal space, breathed down its nose. Sparks blowing out of her throat left tiny marks on the wood. "We're here to whip you, one way or another. I don't care how smart you _think _you're being."

"You! A rookie- it's just _too _much!" Puppetmon mocked, howling with laughter. Faster than the eye could follow, it pulled its strings around Nagainamon, tying her tight. It spun her like a lasso around its head. While Puppetmon was busy, Kim pulled the boy away from it. She felt a little guilty about not helping her partner first, but…

Gentle face, mop hair, this boy, too, looked like Gen. His arms were tied to his sides, and his legs were tied together. His mouth was gagged with cotton balls and a strip of cloth with paisleys on it. Cautiously, Kim glanced at her Digivice. It had responded to Puppetmon, then fell silent. And the boy felt real enough. Kim had to assume this Gen was, well, genuine. He looked at her with a mixture of surprise and gratefulness. Kim set about untying him.

--------

A few minutes ago, the woman in the flowered dress had given a signal to the woman impersonating Gen's mother. The impersonator then changed shape, to look like Gen himself. The ugly potted plant, which had somehow followed them downstairs (Gen wasn't sure how. He'd just blinked, and there it was.), also changed, becoming small, round and green, with two long droopy leaves sprouting from its head. The impersonator then donned some ropes, half cut, and left through the door. All at the orders of the woman in the flowered dress.

This woman had been occupied at a fast computer for a long time. It looked a bit like an old Macintosh, outrageously souped up. The monitor looked like it had been fished out of a dumpster, while the computer itself had a wooden board duct-taped to its side, a lot like stitches sealing up slits from surgery. The woman had sat on Gen, as if the tightly-wound strings wouldn't keep him still enough. She was surprisingly- perhaps even suspiciously- light, however.

After awhile, the woman began to mutter in frustration. From these outbursts, Gen gathered that she was looking for some sort of gate. On the internet? It made no sense. She seemed to be merely surfing through different sites. But when the woman's skin suddenly, inexplicably faded away, leaving a skeleton of weathered wood, an internet gate sounded quite plausible by comparison.

Then Kim showed up out of nowhere, accompanied by a terrier-sized blue dragon, antagonizing the skeleton. Things happened quickly, and suddenly Gen was free of the bonds. Kim asked him what had happened, and he told her everything.

She, whose head constantly looked like it was exploding, grinned. She never had any dimples, Gen noticed in a dispassionate sort of way. "Let's get out of here!" she said.

The dragon was tied up in the strings hanging from the skeleton. It really looked more puppet-like than skeleton-like, now that he saw it from a different angle. Its unrealistic face was carved on, with a long nose stuck in a socket. It was repeatedly slamming the dragon into the floor, but the little creature had a determined look in its eye.

"Watch. You're gonna love this," Kim told Gen, still smiling faintly. She seemed to be in her element. She held a plastic toy in front of her. It looked like a blue version of the Digivice she had given Gen the previous day; the one that had turned on. Its screen was now glowing an orange-red as she slowly pulled the card through the indent on the device's back. A bit of orange light filtered through there, too. "Digimodify! Firewall Activate!" she shouted, striking a pose.

Gen was about to tell her to stop fooling around, when the dragon became surrounded by a shield of fire. The strings caught ablaze, and puppet dropped the dragon, in favor of beating desperately at itself to put the fire out. As soon as it was home free, the flames around the dragon dissipated.

"You sure were fast," it said dryly. The voice was feminine.

"Come one! Let's get out before Puppetmon recovers!" Kim called, waving her arm toward the door. They all ran.

The puppet stopped firefighting for a second, and took a lunge at Kim, the last out the door. "Wait!" it screeched. Kim slammed the door in its face, and it hit it with a resounding 'thump'.

Gen finally recovered his voice. "'_Puppetmon?' _You're obsessed!" He gaped.

Kim turned her eyes skyward, exasperated. She put her arm around Gen's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "You saw it all yourself. Don't tell me it's all in my head!" she admonished him. "Look at Nagainamon!"

Nagainamon, at the moment, was a receding tail in the doorway. The kids ran after her. When Kim caught up, the so-called Digimon said gruffly to her, "The greatest warriors also know when to retreat."

"Whaddaya think I was doing?" Kim countered good-naturedly.

A crunch echoed from behind. Gen turned backwards while running and almost tripped. Puppetmon had jumped through the roof, and was perched on the edge looking down at them, hat bobble blowing in the wind.

Suddenly, it appeared that strings were extending in all directions from the wooden puppet. A few of the strings moved, and a creature swung out of nowhere. It was human shaped with a cat face, and leopard-spotted arms and legs. She had rings on every saber-clawed hand, and multiple gold bracelets on her arms and two tails. Her long red hair was woven into a braid.

She ran gracefully between Gen and Kim, arms held out to rake them with her claws. They both dodged. The cat lady spun, and jumped into the air. **"Vampire Dance," **she hissed, and began to twirl in place.

Kim held out her Digivice. A miniature hologram of the cat woman appeared above it. "Bastemon (Ultimate)," it said, "loves to play with her prey. She'll dance circles around her victims with Vampire Dance, only moving in for the kill if her life is threatened."

_Just like the show. Well, that totally beats me, _Gen thought. So much for thinking logically.

Turning to Nagainamon, Kim asked, "D-do you think she's the lady who was with Dad? They both have a red braid…" Gen could tell what she was saying, but he didn't know what she was talking about.

Nagainamon shook her head. "I was the only Digimon in the area at the time."

Bastemon spun towards the group. When she got within range, she lashed out with a foot. Kim was bowled over, and Gen, who was hit first, flew a few feet before falling. In the same movement, Bastemon scooped up Nagainamon and threw her into the air with a savage smile, readying to swat the dragon on the way down.

Nagainamon balanced herself in flight, and curved. She attempted to dive-bomb Bastemon. The catlike Digimon purred, **"Helter Skelter,"** and split into a dozen slightly transparent clones. She formed a circle around Nagainamon, and pounced when she reached the bottom of her dive.

"Nagainamon!" Kim called out to her partner, getting up and running into the fray. She looked furious.

Gen looked at the palm of his hand. He found himself wishing for the little dog who had defended him the night before. He found himself wishing for… _his Digimon_.

The brown and red Digivice dropped into his open hand. Gen was so startled, he jumped, and dropped it again. Paws pattering on the road, the brown puppy with the flowering tail raced past. He stopped for a moment, and looked back at Gen, who stared. " Can I even go to sleep without you getting into trouble? "the dogwhined, though not unkindly. " It took all afternoon to find you, even with that thing! " Uchimon then smiled, tongue hanging out, and wagged his tail.

Gen gripped the Digivice again, firmly, and pushed himself to his feet. He wondered what to say. Puppetmon was nowhere to be seen. Kim was throwing wild punches at the Bastemon shadows, hitting nothing but air. Nagainamon spat bolts of lightning, all of which disappeared into the road. Both partners were already covered in scratches, though smiling Bastemon didn't seem to want to do any decisive damage. " So, go on, chase a cat, " Gen said awkwardly to Uchimon.

" Well, I never… " the dog began to say. Then the cat woman smacked him, and he slid painfully across the pavement.

Gen felt guilty for distracting Uchimon, but he remained standing still. Why did working with a Digimon seem to come so naturally to Kim, yet feel so awkward to Gen? The question answered itself. _Because you have no faith in them. Not even Uchimon._

Uchimon stood up, hackles raised. He tried to aim his flower, but Bastemon's many copies moved too quickly to pin. The tail pointed from one to another. Two Bastemon clones lifted circled around Uchimon. **"Petal Pistol!" **he howled. The attack hit one of them. She flinched, but otherwise brushed the attack off. She purred, baiting the puppy.

Now Gen couldn't take it anymore, either. He rushed the Bastemon from behind, a surprise punch at each sending them sprawling. Gen stopped at Uchimon's side, and murmured to him, " I don't care how this is going to go, but I'll be with you, okay? " Uchimon nodded.

Bastemon circled.

--------


	11. Digital Travel

**Chapter Eleven**

**Digital Travel**

Raiden was surprised to realize that, though she could barely remember anything about her home world, everything since coming to the Digital World, she could recall perfectly.

She and Imon had been walking for untold hours now. They weren't sure where they should be going, for now simply wanting to be as far away from the Factory as possible. The terrain was mostly wooded, with some open spaces at the top of mountains. Raiden and Imon stuck to the valleys, where the trees were tall, the undergrowth thick, and hiding easy. They were alone, but liked it. It gave Raiden a chance to interrogate Imon. Imon sometimes seemed as surprised as Raiden at what he knew. It was from Imon that Raiden finally learned where she was- the Digital World.

After he had said that, Imon advised, "You should probably call yourself Raidenmon from now on, at least around other Digimon."

Raiden shrugged, surprised, as she spread her legs across a wide fallen log. It was hard to get over them in a skirt. "Why should I do that? Excuse me, but it gets a little dull when everyone's called 'mon."

"Didn't I just tell you? This is the _Digital _World, and there are certain natural laws that have to be followed. People would get suspicious if your name didn't include a file extension."

Raiden slid off the log and continued walking, brushing some bark and a vine out of her hair. "…A file extension would mean you're made out of data, right?" she remembered, and further reasoned, "And if someone isn't made of data, they'd be a freak of nature- or even science?"

On her shoulder, Raiden could feel Imon nodding. "Not to mention, any mon who knows anything will want your chi. Even worse, Lilithmon has offered shares in her chain of factories in exchange for a live human."

Pushing through some bushes with strange, pulsating zebra-striped berries, a thought hit Raiden. "What exactly do the factories _make_? All those machines… but I couldn't see any product."

"That's understandable. The finished products come off the line and are packaged in an entirely different part of the factory." Imon used big words for someone not even a day old. Raiden never ceased to be amazed. "As for what is made, it's a variety of things. Mostly items to enhance a Digimon's natural power. Most of those are distributed amongst Lilithmon's own small army, but some are sold. There are machines the size of a shed that produce static fields, and others that create barriers. Only one unbreakable barrier was ever made, and it defends the main factory- the one we just left."

Imon paused, and continued, "Speaking of such, do you still have the small piece of obsidian that came with my egg?"

Raiden stopped walking, reaching into her shoe with one hand while holding a branch away from her face with the other. She pulled the stone out. It was about the size of a squashed penny, and looked uncut. She couldn't see how the odd red metal had been stuck on. A geometric letter had been engraved in it, showing a more yellow metal beneath the red leaf. "How'd you know I'd got it?" she asked.

"I thought I might have sensed it. It's a data mask, a very specialized illusion-creating device which hides its wearer's true essence, while remaining all but undetectable. A weak Digimon could wear it to appear strong, or a strong Digimon could use it to appear weak. And if a human wears it, it's possible to pretend that he or she is an ordinary Digimon, though without it any human would be immediately detected by their lack of a data signature," Imon explained, at length. The little thing sure could talk! And Raiden was grateful for the information- and companionship. "They're rare in the extreme, though. They could only be made with data gleaned from Hybrids, and they're thought to be all gone now. …I remember Machinedramon thinking how cruel it was, that they were all caught, and their data harvested for its unique properties."

Raiden picked some thorns out of her skirt, and unwound a vine from her left leg. "That's rather sad," she said at last. In the back of her mind, memories of similar injustices in her home world itched, but she couldn't quite recall them. Either way, she wasn't really sure if there was any way to adequately honor the memory of any kind of extinct creature.

Imon sighed. "You can put it back in your shoe now.…Of course, with that on, you're traceable. For awhile, Lilithmon's search pulses might confuse us with the runaway Garurumon, but the more time that passes the more likely it is that they'll identify us. We should look for a large settlement of Digimon to hide in," Imon warned. Perhaps he didn't like thinking about extinction either, and wanted to change the subject. Or perhaps he was just a very practical soul.

Raiden, anyway, was glad to lighten the mood. "I'd like that. I want to see many of the… Digital World's natives. Without having to run from them." She paused to take in her surroundings. Nothing but trees and bushes as far as the eye could see. A few of the plants looked like they had been cut and pasted. "So… any idea where a settlement might be?"

Imon hummed softly, though since he was right next to Raiden's ear, it sounded pretty loud to her. She imagined his eyes would be closed. After a minute, he reported, "We're going in the right direction. I'm not very good at this," for the first time, Imon sounded a little insecure; young, even. "But there is a great density of active data just ahead. It's hard to miss."

"Great." Though wandering aimlessly had been pleasant for awhile, the endless forest could become tiring. With a destination now, Raiden could focus on going forward, and not feel so worn out. Now that she thought about it… she couldn't remember doing this much walking, and certainly not fighting through such rough terrain, in her life. That struck her as odd. What in the name of… of… name, had her home world been like?

Raiden felt like Imon's complete opposite just then. He was blessed with so much knowledge, though he wasn't even a day old, while Raiden didn't even know what her own home, which she was sure she had lived in for years, looked like. Oh…

"Y-you're crying on me!" blurted Imon in surprise. He wasn't sure what else to say.

Raiden didn't want to worry her only friend. She tried to stop the tears. "I'm okay…" she mumbled, none too convincingly.

Even though the settlement was 'just ahead', hours still passed filled with nothing but forest and Imon's chatter. They had to stray off course once to avoid crossing through exposed high ground. Once, Imon hissed for Raiden to hide. She dropped under a bush, seconds before an indistinct shape whizzed above them, blocking out the sun.

Raiden had been the first to speak. "That was from the factory, wasn't it?" There wasn't any doubt. After waiting for a few minutes, in case it came back, they resumed walking.

But eventually, Imon happily announced, "We're here!" Raiden didn't see anything at first. Then her eyes picked out a flat wall just a few feet ahead, painted to blend in with the green and brown. She looked up. Almost completely hidden by the canopy was a small wooden platform, with a hatch in the bottom.

As she watched, someone on the other side slid it open just a crack, and peeked out. Only the eyes were visible- round and blue, set behind… a wooden mask? That's what it looked like. The watcher realized it had been spotted, and grumbled, reluctantly, "Who goes there?"

The Digivice beeped. Raiden studied the picture it projected- a tree, leafless, because its top appeared to have been ripped off. Something about the way they were held made the battered branches looked like arms, and the roots stood between the trunk and the ground. Peering from holes in the trunk were eyes similar to those above the platform, and a third hole just below them could have been a mouth. "Woodmon (Champion) imitates a tree as it waits for prey. Without leaves, it must hunt for food. Its rather arboreal attacks are Twig Tap and Woody Smasher."

It seemed to Raiden that the Woodmon above her wasn't hunting, but keeping watch for something. "My name is Raiden-" Imon nudged her, "-mon. And this is Imon. We need a place to stay."

The sentry grunted. "You're not from the Factory, are you?" it asked, narrowing its eyes as it said this.

Raiden put her hands on her hips. "What do you want me to say?"

Someone, standing beside Woodmon, from the sound of it, laughed. The eyes turned away from the hatch, as if listening to someone whispering. Then Woodmon looked back. "Come up here so we can inspect you," it ordered, still sounding a bit reluctant.

The door opened all the way, showing a square of clear blue-red sky. A rope ladder rolled down; Raiden let it swing for a moment, brushing a few fallen leaves, before grabbing hold. The rungs were all perfectly straight and round, but the grain, too was perfectly straight. It must have grown like that. As Raiden climbed, the watcher or watchers overhead pulled the ladder up.

Raiden's head poked through the floor. She looked around. The platform was a simple structure, half a box, secured by tree branches. Imon took the opportunity to hop off her shoulder, before Raiden bent, uncomfortably, to get her feet on the platform. She stood up, turning to get the kink out of her back.

The Woodmon stood to one side, exactly as described. Two if its arms were folded, and one was in a sling. It looked at her guardedly; it was easy to see it didn't trust strangers. A second Digimon stood on Raiden's opposite side. Its head was a flower, with two beady eyes and a wide relaxed mouth, surrounded by short yellow petals. The top one-fourth of the face, driving a wedge between the eyes, was something between a light red and a dark pink. A very thick stem extended from behind the head, about nine feet long, ending in a point. It had two arms- long and stem-like, but definitely arms- ending in three fingers, without any palms. Its legs, the same bright green as the rest of the body, were much shorter than its arms, and each foot had a single thorny toe. There was something animalistic about its posture. Two massive leaves grew on its shoulders that, if you followed the reasoning that the flower's features represented animal parts, could be wings.

The Digivice identified the bizarre creature as, "Sunflowmon (Champion), one of the many Digimon that straddle the gap between plant and animal. It walks like a beast, flies like a bird, and grows in the sun like a flower. Chloroplasts generate the power for its Sunshine Beam attack."

Sunflowmon smiled lazily, but friendly, at Raiden. The plant fibers of its face wrinkled in odd ways with the movement, and, seeming uncomfortable, the flower shortly returned its face to a neutral expression.

"How do you do?" said Imon politely.

It was Woodmon who addressed the newcomers. "So you… you're looking for shelter, huh? A place to hide perhaps? So… Why, yeah?" It seemed unsure of what to say.

Sunflowmon mutely picked up Imon. It felt his metal shell, and the spines. It pried his mouth open, and looked inside. Imon wagged his tongue, trying to say something, but was impeded. Sunflowmon stuck a finger into Imon's tail. The tiny Digimon laughed involuntarily. "Stop it, that's ticklish!" he pleaded. He took a deep breath, and a smoke ring popped out of the pipe. The flower yanked its finger out as if burned, for a second its expression looking shocked. Seeming to have passed some sort of inspection, Imon was placed back on the ground.

Raiden hesitated to answer. She wasn't sure if they'd welcome someone with anything to do with Lilithmon. But in the end she decided to say. "Yes, we escaped from the Factory. We think we're being chased, but as of yet no one knows where we are. We thought that… if we went to a city or… someplace with a lot of Digimon, we could hide more easily."

The wooden sentry appeared to accept that. "Grah!" it cursed. "Well… so long as no one knows where you _are_… We could let you stay here."

For the first time, Sunflowmon spoke up. Its voice sounded strained, like its movements, as if it couldn't bend easily. "You will be required to work. We are always in need of another defender."

Raiden hesitated, instinctively shying away from a situation where she might have to take orders. But Imon nodded. "We'd be glad to lend a hand," he said. "Well… the one with the hands, anyway." Raiden shot him a dirty look.

Woodmon nodded dismissively, and turned his back to the two. He seemed to relax once his eyes were fixed on the treetops. "Show them in, Sunflowmon," he directed.

Sunflowmon nodded, and took Raiden by the hand. Imon hopped beside, beginning to ask the flowerlike Digimon questions about the place they had come to. Raiden was almost surprised he didn't know about any of it, but supposed that his- or his father's- sphere of experience ended at the Factory's walls. Sunflowmon remained silent, its face still.

They climbed down a wooden staircase, spiraling down a thick tree trunk in a way that didn't damage its bark. Slowly, Raiden's perspective passed below the canopy, and she saw the view behind the walls.

On this side, the wall itself had been painted in many colors. Sometimes the painting looked like plants and flowers, but mostly it was just abstract. The ground was bare dirt, warm, dry, and brown. Trees still grew everywhere, creating dark shades adjacent to bright patches. Huddling around the tree trunks, sheltering in the shadows, were huts, seeming to be made of mud and shed twigs and bark. They were thatched with fallen deciduous leaves. The shapeless ramshackle huts might have been dreary, but they too were painted brightly, with patterns and murals as individual as a house's occupants. Jars and pots, brimming with various materials, colonized the doorsteps.

From the branches of the forest, someone had hung kites, paper flowers, and painted gourds, creating a festive atmosphere. Some of these ornaments housed candles, unlit in the daylight. In one of the gourds, a bird seemed to have built a nest. The most striking thing about the town, however, was the flowers and plants. Around the edges of the wall, a few tame plants grew. These were mostly grasses, with a few small flowers. But mostly they were huge, with arms and legs in a fashion similar to Sunflowmon. They were everywhere, sitting contentedly in sun and shade, most of them moving little. They made the town look as lush and colorful as a tropical rainforest- though Raiden couldn't quite remember what a rainforest was. She supposed it looked a lot like this town.

Sunflowmon let go of Raiden's hand, resting its arm on her shoulder instead. "Welcome," it announced dreamily, "to Kusabana no Gensanchi."


	12. Digital Evolution

**Chapter Twelve**

**Digital Evolution**

It was really beginning to get to Kim that they couldn't even touch the cat-like Bastemon. Nagainamon swooped to whisper in her ear. "We can't keep this up! This Digimon is an Ultimate, way too powerful if we can't Digivolve. And even if by some miracle we beat her, Puppetmon is even stronger!"

Kim stepped out of the way of a swirling claw, and jumped over a kick from behind. "Are you suggesting we run away?" she accused, slightly out of breath.

"We don't have a choice!" Nagainamon ducked as a Bastemon clone pounced at her.

Kim tried to punch the nearest copy, but it bent easily out of the way. "I'm not going to run away! Nuh-uh!" An impulse Kim had imagined, but never really known she had- she really didn't want to show cowardice. But a part of her was aware of how badly they were outmatched.

"You're being suicidal!" moaned Nagainamon. As if to confirm this, one of Bastemon's claws slid across Kim's cheek. She flinched.

Carefully, Kim searched her pocket for the right card. "I know it's in here somewhere…" she mumbled. Bastemon, infuriatingly, waited for Kim to find what she was looking for. "Here it is… well, all right Nagainamon- Digimodify! Seed of Swiftness, Activate!"

Nagainamon glowed briefly. Then she snatched the card out of Kim's Digivice, and flew to Gen and Uchimon, quicker than blinking. They were surrounded by a ring of shadow Bastemon, just like the other two. Gen looked surprised, but took the card anyway.

"Thanks," he shouted, and ducked under a claw. "But don't expect me to pose!" he added. Gen slipped the card into his own Digivice. Like it had with Kim, the card got stuck in the middle. One of the Bastemon copies watched, amused, as he pulled again, in vain. Finally, Gen got it out; he almost tripped. "That's definitely a design flaw," he muttered. Uchimon's fur stood up as he received the extra power.

"NOW RUN!" Nagainamon bellowed. The next second, she was at the end of the street. Uchimon followed, pulling Gen once again; the latter yelped.

"… Wait for me!" called Kim. She thundered after the rest of the group.

Behind her, Bastemon re-assembled herself. In a few moments, the transparent copies had slid together and became solid again. Bastemon licked her lips, and jumped eight feet to pounce on Kim. The human girl hadn't seen her coming, and was slapped onto the road. Nagainamon stopped running, and turned to her fallen partner.

"**Electron Stream!" **she breathed. The lightning bolt struck its target, shocking Bastemon- and, by extention, Kim. In her haste, Nagainamon had forgotten that would happen.

--------

Ushimon didn't stop. He ran so fast, his paws barely touched the ground. He spun haphazardly around corners; it was mostly luck that kept the puppy from ramming into a building. Leg wrapped in Uchimon's supple tail, Gen was pulled along, protesting.

Uchimon didn't stop until he reached the river. That was about when the swiftness wore off. He skittered to a halt in the shallow water, breathing heavily. Gen fell over backwards.

" I get the feeling you're not going to listen to me… But please, please, never do that again, " the boy panted.

Uchimon looked for any sign of movement, but the riverside was abandoned, as usual. His eyes were drawn to the sky. It was composed of various shades of blue, darker directly above his head, and lighter near the horizon. The clouds looked bleached white in this odd sky, and objects seemed brighter. Uchimon began to seriously wonder why the sky would be this color, of all others. Perhaps it had something to do with the atmosphere.

After getting his breath back, Gen sat up, wringing water out of his shirt and hair. " We're back here? What'd you come _here _for? "

Uchimon didn't listen to him. The puppy Digimon was just noticing the trees on the bank, and the windowed cliffs, upon which the rocks formed in a scale-like pattern. Rediscovering the world in daylight had absorbed his rapt attention.

Something else then caught Uchimon's notice. The weathered puppet Digimon from before swaggered onto the riverbank, twirling something lazily from its fingers. It dropped it, chuckling, with a small splash at Uchimon's feet, and disappeared. The puppy stared at the token.

The Digivice, which Gen had placed in his lap, began to beep frantically. The rhythm of the noise was similar to that of a quickly beating heart. Gen clutched the Digivice, and looked at its screen. It said: 'Alert! Energy at peak. Begin Digivolve.'

Directly beneath Uchimon, the yellow glow of the gate spread through the river. Mist rose from the water, thickened to fog, and obscured Uchimon from all else. Since he had not grown up in the Digital World, Uchimon had never experienced the rush of absorbing Data. He felt his spine tingle, and hackles raise, half glimpsing the information as it crammed inside him. It was too much for his small body to contain; a feeling that was almost physical. So, using instinctive knowledge, he transmuted the data into shape, around himself. It was at this point that he realized he was Digivolving.

--------

Gen stared. " What are you doing? " he gasped. He knew what the Digimon was doing, but was just too surprised. Light dimmed around the gray cocoon, as if it was absorbing sunlight for extra energy.

Tentatively, out of curiosity, Gen reached out to touch the cocoon. His hand sunk softly through the outer mist, and immediately sheer shock rammed out to meet him.

--------

Suddenly, something from the outside touched Uchimon. The Digimon felt the hand connect, and felt the transfer happen. He didn't have time to think on what it meant, though, for soon the Digivolution was complete.

With different content came a different name. As the fog dropped around him, the perfect name appeared in his mind. The first thing he did was announce it. "Uchimon, Digivolved to Atriamon!"

Gen fell backwards. Having stuck his hand into the more or less metaphorical electrical socket, sparks jumped off his fingertips, and the ends of each individual hair, which had fallen out of its locks; his eyes and mouth may have even glowed a little. But he seemed unharmed. When he landed in the water, there was a fizzling sound, and a bit of steam rose.

Atriamon nudged his partner, concerned. The boy groaned. He sat up slowly, rubbing his now-sore right arm. The glow was unseen now, though not necessarily gone. Atriamon picked him up by his shirt, so as not to hurt the human with his now deadly fangs. He swung Gen onto his back, where the boy grabbed hold. Slowly, they both smiled.

" Y-you look great… Atriamon, " Gen said. For the first time, he actually looked like he could be counted on. It was a tentative thing, though. He glanced around. " Are you strong enough to beat Bastemon? "

Atriamon flexed his claws. " I don't know. But the others need us anyway. " He felt for any sign of Digimon; he began to run. Towards it, this time.

--------

Cursing herself for her mistake, Nagainamon flew to the stricken Kim and Bastemon. The latter recovered quickly, twitching slightly from the shock as she got up, but mostly looking disappointed that she wouldn't get to torment Kim any longer. Kim didn't move; she didn't seem to be breathing, though Nagainamon didn't know much about the way 'Real World' creatures worked. It made Nagainamon so mad. She'd love to wipe that playful grin off of that pussy face.

Bastemon purred, batting a paw at Nagainamon. The dragon snorted a cloud of ions, and attempted to rake the overconfident Ultimate with her talons. Infuriatingly, the ducked, rolling, to come out in a handstand and kick Nagainamon from behind. Nagainamon stopped her momentum as quickly as she could, turning around to fire another Electron stream at Bastemon. Bastemon sidestepped it; the electricity left a dark spot on the road. The cat woman Digimon giggled **"Vampire Dance," **and began to spin rapidly again. Maroon streaks sliced the air around her. The faster she spun, the wider the streaks flew. Bastemon spun herself into a cyclone; Nagainamon had to roll in flight, and skid to the ground, to avoid the blood- soaked blades.

"**Dispel Charge,"** screeched Nagainamon. The static emanating from her scales reached for the digital whirlwind, but was deflected by Bastemon's power. The cyclone tore towards Nagainamon, oddly leaving the road undamaged. Nagainamon thought again of retreat, but her speed was wearing off. Bastemon, however, was spinning faster than ever, the force of the wind sucking Nagainamon towards the vortex. She held her wings as tightly to her body as she could, and braced her claws against the pavement, but it did no good.

Kim blinked. The electricity had quickly drained away; it seemed merely a shadow of the searing, deadly lightning she had heard of. Kim sat up, and looked, still startled, at herself. Her sweatshirt wasn't even charred. Trying not to think about what had just happened, she stood up. At first she thought her ears were ringing; then she realized it was the sound of a high wind. She turned around.

There was the cyclone of Bastemon, closing in on struggling Nagainamon. Kim grimaced. Not taking her eyes off the scene, she felt on the ground for her Digivice. Nagainamon saw her. The baby dragon's eyes widened, before she was pulled into the cyclone.

"I'll save you, Nagainamon!" Kim tried to shout over the wind. She hesitated for about a second, then charged in.

In the center of the cyclone, Bastemon spun at an alarming speed. High above, Nagainamon was tossed about, just barely avoiding blades that would tear her in half. As Kim stepped within the structure of wind, she was lifted off her feet. She kicked her legs, trying to get closer to her partner, but she was at the mercy of the air. She could almost smell Bastemon's satisfaction.

Nagainamon shouted something, but she was drowned out by the wind's roar. Neither could Kim hear her Digivice begin to beep. So she was surprised when smoke swirled around Nagainamon. She thought it was another attack, and almost despaired for her friend. The air darkened, and time seemed to slow. The smoke twisted in its shape, finally blowing back.

"Nagainamon Digivolved to Kisakidramon!" Kisakidramon was long and serpentine, and sky blue. She had an aerodynamic head, and elegant eyes, and a broad blue shield sweeping back from her brow. She wore an electrum necklace, with white crystals hanging from it. The centermost crystal was shaped like a lightning bolt. Fastened to the necklace, and the neck, were three electrum spines. A fire-like crown hovered above Kisakidramon's head; similarly, two electrum axe blades hovered around the tip of her tail, and white fiery wings by her body. She had powerful claws, though her arms faded and didn't seem to connect to the body. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!" she hooted. Despite her predicament, Kim was impressed. Four yeses.

Kisakidramon slowly curved around. Her flame wings propelled her even through the cyclonic winds. She pushed towards the center, where Bastemon twirled. Whether or not the cat lady was oblivious to this or not, Kim was unsure. But, moving suddenly quickly, Kisakidramon wrapped her sinuous tail around Bastemon, and jerked. The sudden halt hurt Bastemon badly, and she yowled.

"Not so tough now, kitty," Kisakidramon sneered. She hastily released Bastemon, her axe tail cutting the cat's shoulder, and flew to catch Kim. Without Bastemon spinning, naturally the cyclone had stopped.

Lying in Kisakidramon's unusual arms, Kim whispered, "Don't gloat. It makes you sound like a bad guy."

The dragon chuckled. "You are so right. Pride always comes before a fall." She placed the human girl on the street.

"I dunno…" Kim muttered, half joking. "I wasn't feeling too proud just then…"

--------


	13. The Lucky Chapter

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Lucky Chapter**

With a bound, the beast raced onto the scene. In shape, it looked like something between a wolf and a grizzly, with a noble posture. Mostly, its shaggy fur was light brown, but on its head and neck it was smoky white. Two white manes hung on its neck, one on either side. One spot on its nose was dark red-brown. Its tail was long, and fanned at the end; there was an elaborate pattern of circles and triangles on the plume, which seemed to have meaning.

Kim and Kisakidramon were startled. The latter flew, ribbon-like, at the apparition. She held her hands parallel to one another. **"Soul of Fire,"** she called. Small flames jumped between her claws, and shortly a fireball erupted below the beast's feet. It dodged at the last second, swerving clumsily.

Kim squinted, as if trying to discern something. Gen peeked over the wolf's head, looking deservedly harried. "What are you doing! We're not the enemies!" he shouted. Kisakidramon double-took, blinking, as Atriamon thundered past her. Her long body was blown into a knot in the wolf's wake.

Bastemon had been creeping up behind Kim, this time looking murderous. She reared to bite her. **"Material Barrier!"** Atriamon roared. The air flashed, light reflecting for a second off a transparent wall between Bastemon and Kim. Kim spun around to see Bastemon being thrown backwards by the sudden force.

Kisakidramon followed up; her wings burned black for a moment, as she executed **"Soul of Ice!"**So quick you'd think it was a time lapse, unmelting ice formed around Bastemon, even as the cat woman tried to get to her feet. Atriamon ran to the enemy Digimon and spun, his heavy tail smashing through the ice. Even as Kim and Kisakidramon prepared to attack again, Bastemon shattered.

As befit such a deceptively beautiful Digimon, her data spiraled apart, reminiscent of a dance. A few pieces glittered especially bright. Were they happy memories, Kim wondered? She could only wonder… at least for now.

But, though her data dispersed, Bastemon didn't disappear. Beneath the large cat was a smaller body, small being a relative term, as it looked like an adult human. Before Kim could get a good look at it, though, Puppetmon appeared from nowhere in front of it, arms held out. The strings quickly wove themselves in to a curtain, totally concealing the figure from view.

Kim pulled the card she'd had ready through her Digivice. "Digimodify! Offense Plugin A, Activate!"

"**Soul of Fire!" **Kisakidramon attacked, not missing a beat. The fire attack was amped up by the card's data, exploding into a column of flame. Like before, it created no smoke. Atriamon scampered out of the way.

When the fire died down, Puppetmon was still standing, unharmed. It smirked. A clicking sound came from behind the curtain, and it began to fade. Puppetmon, and whoever it was protecting, appeared as transparent sketches for a second, before even those disappeared, as if drawn in reverse.

Kim wiped her brow and sighed. Kisakidramon clenched her fist. "Those teleporting cowards… Censored!"

Giggling, Kim half-hugged Kisakidramon. "Why'd you say 'censored' instead of cursing?" she couldn't help asking.

"You're saying 'censored' _isn't _a curse?" Kisakidramon gasped earnestly, making Kim laugh harder.

She covered her mouth. "Hehe… it must be cultural." _If I had died back there, _Kim thought jokingly, _I never would have gotten to laugh at that. _Deep down, though, she wasn't really joking.

Gen slid off of Atriamon's back. His heart was pounding, from the battle and from the jarring ride. He didn't know how Kim could act so lightly after all that.

Kim slapped him on the back. "Did I mention what a lovely pose you were in back there?" she teased, grinning cheerfully.

Gen grimaced. "I wasn't posing. … I had trouble…"

"Whatever," Kim chuckled.

Gen reached into his pocket and pulled out Kim's goggles, which he had retrieved from the river, handing them back to her. "Puppetmon used this to tell us you were dead," he explained laboriously. The sentence gave him trouble- it wasn't the sort of topic covered in a typical English lesson.

Kim's hands shot to her forehead. She felt around, and found nothing but hair. Her jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh, when could it have taken them?" she exclaimed.

"Showoff," Kisakidramon grunted, arms crossed.

"It must have thought we were friends," added Gen.

Kim froze. She looked sadly at the boy. "…Aren't we?" she asked quietly.

Gen shook his head, though he kept his expression gentle. "We don't… We aren't friends yet."

For a moment, Kim looked disappointed, but it passed. She pulled her goggles back on, not realizing the way they pulled her stiff hair down, making it look even sillier. "Well, let's go to my place! We have so much to do- the gate's on the internet, and who knows what else we'll learn!" She began marching home.

They talked on the way. Kisakidramon told Gen everything she'd told Kim, and Gen, in turn, filled the girls in on what had happened to him and Atriamon. At first, Atriamon was shy. But, after listening to the others talk for awhile, he started asking questions of his own.

Kisakidramon was shocked at Atriamon's ignorance when it came to the Digital World. It took the wolf Digimon awhile to explain the place where he had grown up. "It's like… a river," he used the first simile that came to mind. "On either side is a bank, but in between those banks, there's always a river. Things on one bank can't get to the other. Except, on a river, you can see the other bank…" he looked down.

"Go on," Kim urged.

Atriamon cleared his throat. "…It's not like a river at all, really. It's the world that all the gates connect to, really. I don't know if it existed before the Digital World was created. Only one… being ever lived there. It protects the Sunset World, throwing out any creature that enters. That's why it started calling itself the Gatekeeper. The transfer happens so quickly, most people don't even realize they've been there."

Gen nodded. "But why would gates only connect to that world? It doesn't make sense for them to all lead to the same place."

"They just do." Atriamon shrugged.

"What's it like there?" Kim asked.

Atriamon's eyes misted over in reminiscence. "There's an ocean- that's like a river, only so big you can't see the other side," he wasn't sure if this world had oceans, "Trees grow near the shore, where there's sand- like dirt, but white and hard."

"Yeah yeah, we have all that stuff too," said Kisakidramon with disdain.

Atriamon cringed. "Sorry, I couldn't have known. …Where was I? Well, the world is so big I haven't seen all of it. Actually… I think I've barely seen any of it. But the sky is filled with all colors- it's not like that in the Digital World, is it, Kisakidramon? - and everything looks so much more real that way."

Kim applauded. "The days are getting longer, so we might have to wait awhile to see a sunset. But I'll have to show you."

Atriamon paused. "I can't wait," he finally said, smiling.

--------

Raul "Bloody Angel" Woolf was in a bind. He was expertly hog-tied, and packed into a suffocating burlap bag, reinforced with felt. No more than three inches separated his myriad wounds. His handgun was in the pocket of the Snake goon who had done all this to him. Unlike the dope last time, this guy was no amateur; he'd even taken Raul's boots, and the concealed knife along with them. The guy had _definitely _found the one in his sleeve. All of Raul's braids had been untied, yielding a pack of matches, a swiss army knife, and a vial of arsenic- the Snakes must have seen that trick before. And, showing admirable determination, the poison darts had been found and removed from the pocket sewn into the inside of his underwear.

Fortunately, there was still one hiding place that insightful man hadn't thought of. Raul jerked his shoulder so that it rubbed against the wire around his neck. The wires tightened painfully around his hands and feet, but, steadily, the rubber skin on that shoulder peeled off. Raul prayed that the Snake was still far from his destination.

The knife hidden beneath the rubber slid off. Turning his head, the wires cut into his real skin. He tried to nudge the knife into his hands. The Snake slammed the bag into a wall, before continuing walking. "Stop fidgeting," he shouted.

At last, the knife landed in Raul's hand. He started to cut the wire running between his neck and ankles, though it required a bit of a stretch. After what seemed like hours, it snapped. Almost happy to be free of that uncomfortable position, Raul shifted so as to be more comfortable, though not enough to make the Snake suspicious. "Stop fidgeting," the Snake repeated. "We're almost there." He sounded triumphant.

Hastily now, Raul worked at the cords around his wrists. He had to do this by clamping the knife between his knees and rubbing the cords against it. The knife slipped once, cutting the side of his hand. Soon after, though, a wire snapped, and the tie loosened enough to pull apart.

Just then, the bag containing Raul was thrown to the ground. He couldn't hear anything through the felt, so he held still. The bag was opened. Raul jumped out, ignoring the spasms of pain the sudden movement caused. He swung one fist to his right, in case anyone was standing there, while his left hand, holding the knife, stabbed through the bottom of the jaw of the Snake who had captured him. The man collapsed, and Raul dropped the knife. He grabbed his gun back and rolled; a shot from across the room missed him by an inch, shooting the dead man instead.

A soft, irregular hissing sound filled the air. Raul spied a third man lifting a shotgun. He fired wildly, getting lucky and blowing right through the man's knee. He howled and doubled over, dropping the shotgun. A bullet blew through Raul's ribcage, barely missing his heart. Though, from the pain, it might have been a direct hit. Raul didn't scream, but only because his lung had been popped. His knees buckled, his entire body hurt so much it felt numb.

Raul's vision blurred. Everything looked black. He didn't notice hitting the ground, and had no clue what happened after his being shot- but somehow, he still felt conscious. In the midst of the blackness, then, a light began to gather. It began dim, distant, as every color of the rainbow, but as it focused and intensified grew blazing white. The light was soon on top of him, filling his sight, and he thought, _Oh boy, I'm dead._

When Raul awoke, the room was dark. It was a tiny room, with unadorned concrete walls, and a single broken light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Caked blood was all over him, and he lay on the empty burlap bag. The body of a Snake member was a grotesque cushion. Carefully, dazedly, Raul stood up. He was surprised he didn't hurt, and began to feel around for injuries. He was even more surprised to find none- so surprised, he felt sick.

In the middle of the floor, surrounded by a short railing, was a ten foot deep pit, filled with snakes upon snakes. It was the Snake gang's infamous pit. The live snakes seemed to have calmed down, and were no longer hissing. The men who had called themselves snakes lay where they had fallen. Both of them bore tattoos of black snakes. The man who had shot Raul was gone.

Eerily, the two dead men's eyes had been closed, and the blood wiped off their faces. Their arms were folded serenely over their chests.

--------


	14. Digital Encounter

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Digital Encounter**

Back at Kim's house, all seemed quiet. A movie was on in the living room casting a small glow on the dim room, and Allen and Honey were sitting together on the couch. Honey was holding Allen's hand reassuringly. When he heard the door open, Allen practically jumped off the couch. Honey started too, at his movement. "Kim! Where were you! You must not leave the house all of a sudden like that- Christine and I were scared to death!"

Kim didn't answer his question; she turned her cheek and pouted. "I'm _Kimiko_. And," she pointed a finger at Honey. "Where had _she_ been all this time?"

"What are you-?" Honey began, looking vaguely confused.

"She's been with me. She's been a real comfort," Allen assured Kim.

Kim folded her arms. "Come on, Gen," she urged.

Atriamon and Kisakidramon were waiting just outside, in all their glory. Gen looked at them doubtfully. "Will you… be okay, outside?"

Kisakidramon nodded. "Don't patronize me," she groaned. As if to make a point, she flew behind the house.

"I'll be fine," Atriamon agreed. Reluctantly, Gen closed the door behind him.

"Promise me you'll never scare me like that again," Allen pressed.

Kim met her father's eyes. "What if someone's life depended on it? What if I knew someone was in danger and only I could save him." She had thought about it all day, and decided not to keep the Digimon's reality a secret. But she had to get her dad's trust somehow.

Allen flopped back onto the couch, looking at Kim with a mixture of understanding and… the complete opposite. "I know you're a responsible kid, but I have to know you're safe. If you can find it in you, do your old man a favor, will you?"

"I won't run off unless I absolutely have to," Kim promised. There was a silent moment.

Honey broke the ice. She paused the movie, and turned to Gen. "Who's this? Are you one of Kim's friends?" she asked sweetly. Her inflection reminded Kim of Mrs. Wightman's, but friendlier and less practiced. Kim took it to mean Honey thought of her as only a child.

"I moved here, not many days ago."

Honey grinned at Kim, without getting up from the sofa. "It's good to see you're making new friends, Kimberly."

Kim grimaced. She pointed stiffly at Honey, and glared vengefully down her finger. "My name's Kimiko. And don't forget it!" her voice rang.

Honey looked startled, holding her hands protectively over her breast. Then she relaxed, and laughed. "You have an adorable daughter," she told Allen. "You should be proud of her."

"Who says I'm not?" Allen argued good naturedly. His eyes were half closed in an expression of affection.

Kim shook her head, rubbing the right lens on her goggles. A part of her felt like her dad shouldn't court a woman without Kim's consent. But she reminded herself that she had more important things to worry about, and went to her room.

Gen followed her shyly. He paused, and looked back at the two adults. They had turned the movie back on, and were holding hands again. Both their faces were content and, possibly, in love. "Have fun up there," said Allen, tapping his hand on the arm of the sofa. Gen smiled encouragingly and left them.

Kim was kneeling on her stool, waiting for a webpage to load. "So," she chimed. "What do you know about the internet?"

Gen shrugged, once again marveling at the spectacular room. Visiting the place for a second time, he felt like he was finalizing a long-term agreement. He hadn't expected anything like this to happen when he moved here. "I know what everyone else knows, I think. Maybe… a few things other people don't know."

"Perfect."

--------

The man who had dragged Raul to the torture chamber wore a stained white trench coat. Raul saw this with indignation; had the Snake intended to keep the coat as a trophy? The first thing he did after getting his bearings was take the coat back and put it on. Considering the Snake's untimely death, the coat was stiff with dried blood. But Raul always wore it when on business, and he felt more at home as soon as his back was covered. While he was at it, Raul also claimed his gear, and the contents of the corpse's own pockets- a gun, a few bandages, and a spool of wire. He didn't think there was anything odd about doing so.

Feeling there was little reason to stick around until someone else showed up to interrogate him, Raul left the room. The door opened into a small, secretive street, just wide enough that it couldn't be described as an alley, but it was a close thing. None of the buildings had doors, or very many windows. Night had fallen while Raul was unconscious, and visibility in the tight space was almost nil. He weighed the risk of remaining in the torture chamber against the risk of stepping into blindness.

There was one source of light. It came from out of sight, around a corner, and was too faint to be a streetlamp, but too strong to be stray light from a window. The way it refracted around the edges, becoming a rainbow, reminded Raul suspiciously of the light that was his last memory after being shot.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to approach the light or not, but it beat either of his other options. To be safe, he took a shoe from the nearest corpse and chucked it into the shadows. When this brought no reaction, and the shoe bounced as expected, Raul darted to the corner and peeked unobtrusively around. He could see light coming from a shop on the other side of a street. Closer still, in a short alley, a broken, unpainted picket fence created a spot concealed from the road. Lying cozily in this spot was a large white dog.

No, it wasn't a dog, but a stocky, shaggy foal. Nothing like a dog, really… But Raul hadn't expected a foal in the middle of a city. If Raul had known the first thing about horses, he would have thought it strange that this one had cloven hooves. More immediately obvious was that this foal was the source of the light Raul had seen from the door. It's whole body glowed, making its already spotlessly white coat seem even bolder, and distorting its facial features so that they looked strangely un-horselike. Its hair and skin may have even been faintly transparent, for the slight outline of a skeleton was visible within it- not nearly enough to be outright frightening, though. It gave off a strange feeling that Raul couldn't put his finger on.

His first impulse was to leave, quickly and silently. He didn't believe what he was seeing; even if he did, it was threatening in its strangeness, and he didn't want it to have anything to do with him. But as he watched, the foal stirred. Its ears twitched, and it wagged its head slightly. It carefully unbuckled its legs and stood up. Raul found himself waiting for what it would do. It opened its eyes- black, glistening, flawless- and look at him.

Raul's legs pulled him backwards, while his eyes remained locked with the foal's. It watched him for a second, as he tripped over a small crack in the pavement. After a few moments it, somehow satisfied, trotted towards Raul. Its movements seemed slightly exaggerated, and hoof prints glowed for a few seconds wherever it stepped.

The foal jerked its head sharply down. A glassy segmented horn unfolded from its forehead, like an antenna. The foal was close now, and Raul flinched away from the tip of the horn. The next moment, the horn was sticking through his chest. He almost didn't notice it at first, because it felt like nothing but a warm breeze. A bright green glow surrounded the horn where it touched Raul.

"Do not be afraid," said the foal. The voice was clear, firm, and female. What it wasn't was horselike. The foal's mouth didn't move; Raul looked frantically around the alley for the speaker.

A clump of dark green lines pulsed briefly through the horn, from Raul to the foal. "You are still afraid," the voice pointed out. It sounded concerned, and minutely less steady the second time.

Raul pulled away. The foal lurched forward with him. "T-that thing's in me!" he shrieked.

The foal suddenly slid its horn out of Raul, and wheeled toward the end of the road. A few drops of dark green liquid rolled off of its horn. It snorted, and the colored lights around it swirled. Then it galloped away, its light fading into the darkness with distance. "If I hadn't come here in time, you would be dead," the voice spoke loudly, though it didn't so much as shout.

When it was gone, Raul groaned and gritted his teeth. For the first time in memory, his body didn't hurt, and his mind was trying to compensate for the void. He ground his wrist into his forehead, yelling, "What the ----!" at the spot where the light disappeared. For many minutes, Raul didn't get up.

Eventually he managed to feel better, once his back began to ache from lying on the pavement. Besides, he remembered someone saying that if you took something like LSD only once, and were clean for the next ten years, you could still have a relapse at the worst moment. Knowing all about 'worst moments', Raul had listened to the warning and never taken the chemicals. But he _had_ gotten really trashed with Thirteen last night. The point was the horse was a hallucination.

Raul stood up, and leaned against the wall. "That was you, Med, right?" he called, displaying a small smirk. No one answered. "Come on out here dude," he added half-heartedly. He shrugged.

Shoving all that had happened to the back of his mind, Raul wondered where he was. He stepped onto the street he had already glimpsed. According to the street sign, Raul was pretty far from 'home'. He checked his pockets out of habit, but knew already that he didn't have any money for a bus.

A man in a dark gray windbreaker jogged down the street. He was stopped by a slightly shabby, uncertain looking fellow. The fellow screwed up his face, almost theatrically, and said laboriously, "Do you… nanra... know… where…" Relatively quickly, he rattled off a street name. The jogger shook his head and ran on.

The man, apparently lost, sighed dramatically. "Goshinpainaku…" Raul waited for him to walk by the alley. This guy didn't sound like he spoke English, meaning he'd have a hard time complaining about a few small thefts.

He wandered closer. Checking to make sure no one else was around, Raul reached out and pulled the man into the alley.

"Maro-!"

Without a word, Raul pressed the guy into the wall, and pulled out his pockets. He heard a few clinks, and a thud. Raul scooped up everything that had fallen, and ran off.

For a second the man was dazed, wondering what had hit him. Then he swore, and ran after the thief.

--------


	15. Digital Visitor

I am extremely sorry that I took so gratuitously long in updating. The first month or two of school is always a tiring time for me, emotionally and physically. I can't say how often I'll be updating during the upcoming months, but I'll try my best.

While I'm at it- All reviewers Awesome!

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Digital Visitor**

When he felt safe, Raul slowed down, and looked at what he'd taken for the first time. There were six coins of various sizes, but they were all foreign. Why hadn't he thought of that? Two of the coins were stuck together by some brown substance. Also in his pocket had been an odd, green and white electric toy. This was the sort of stuff you'd expect to find in a little kid's pocket, not a grown man's. Raul's opinion of the man, already low, dropped another few brackets.

Out of a vague curiosity, he pressed one of the three buttons. The yellow screen flickered some text, faster than Raul could read, beeping slowly a few times. Then it turned off. Nonplussed, Raul dropped it in his own pocket.

--------

The evening's search hadn't gone well. Kim's computer was indeed slow, and it was all Gen could do not to fall asleep, much less refrain from calling it a piece of trash. They discovered nothing.

So he was in a bad mood when he left for home. Atriamon, still not de-Digivolved, offered to give Gen a ride, and that made him feel a bit better. Atriamon was gentle this time, and the ride was pleasant. For once, he started to think that Digimon could be a good thing, in the absence of any psycho attacks. He wanted to ask more about this Sunset World of the wolf's, as it was obviously important; but all of Atriamon's answers were as unsatisfactory as the first; he skimmed over many things as if they were well known, and lingered on other, seemingly superfluous details as if they weren't. They had returned to the house at the crossroads before Gen could ask again.

Gen's mom sobbed theatrically, and probably on purpose, when she saw her son. She cried about how scared she had been for him, and had looked all over for him when they'd found him gone. She'd chastised him for missing dinner the day before, too, and missing school that morning. Gen noticed how similar her reaction was to Kim's dad's.

He told his mom he'd been at a friend's, though he still wasn't sure if he considered Kim a friend. He was still sore from his goodbye with Arata, the best friend he'd ever had, and was sure he'd feel guilty if he replaced him so quickly.

His mom wouldn't let him out of her sight. When his own dad got home, he didn't even get to put the groceries down before Mom told him to lecture Gen. He got to a half-hearted start, which eventually devolved into laughter between both of them after a few jokes. Mom whined something about having no discipline in the family anymore.

She perked up by miles with Dad's news, though. " A friend of yours happened to run into me on the way home. He's brought that plant you asked him to take care of. I took him here with me. "

Mom threw her hands joyously into the air, just as a man about her age stumbled backwards through the door. His arms were full with a large plant in a red pot. Both its long leaves and bright pink flower the size of a plate were wrinkly and droopy, and the stem bulged gigantically just below the bloom. The flower radiated an odor possibly thicker than the air itself, and not so much bad as overpowering. On the whole, the plant looked as if it had been imported illegally from some remote rainforest. Dad slumped on the couch, fanning himself with a package of frozen beef.

The head of the man himself was hidden by the flower. He was wearing a light brown, threadbare coat, dark blue pants, and reddish shoes in the process of falling apart. With serious effort, he craned his neck to look out of the foliage. His face was round and cheerful, with dark brown eyes and a wide mouth, and the beginning of a beard. His hair, about the same color as his eyes, was long and stuck out naturally, in a way Kim had probably been trying to achieve. It was Daisuke, just one of his mom's many weird friends. She'd once explained how, as a joke, she'd based the cast of the Digimon show off of them. After what he'd experienced in the past two days, Gen half expected this visitor to be accompanied by Veemon.

As he thought this, Gen's Digivice began to beep. He panicked for a second, quickly shoving it into his pocket and smothering it with one hand. To his relief, no one seemed to really notice, though his dad checked his cell phone.

" Oh, you came! I'm so happy! " Mom cried, throwing her arms around the plant and lifting it seemingly effortlessly out of Daisuke's arms.

" Does your husband know you're having an affair with your potted plant? " Daisuke smirked.

Mom cradled the plant like a baby, stroking its leaves. " Don't listen to the mean man, Kusabana-sama, " she crooned. Then she laughed, seeming satisfied with the point she'd made, and set the plant gently down in the corner. " I'm happy to see you too, Daisuke-kun. Would you like something to drink? "

" Anything hot, thank you, " Daisuke shifted his weight uncomfortably. " I suppose you're wondering the real reason I'm here… "

Gen's interest was sparked, but, as usual when his mom had visitors, he tried to pretend he wasn't listening. Mom raised an eyebrow. She sighed, resting her cheek on two pensive fingers. " And here I thought you just wanted to return my precious flower. All right, what is it, Daisuke-kun? "

Daisuke hesitated. He glanced quickly right and left. Gen tried his best to look neutral, as he usually did when Mom had company, and Dad seemed occupied with ignoring the plant's smell. " A… gate… opened," he began tentatively. "Near my neighborhood. I wasn't there when it happened, but since it was in the middle of a road, the emerging Digimon caused a crash. The local news caught the gate on film without realizing it."

Mom's eyes widened. " I can't believe it… after so long, it's happening again? "

" Last time I checked, the gate was still active, meaning the Digimon are still at large. "

Gen was startled. Mom, naturally, would talk about Digimon with otherwise sane adults, but never as objectively as this. They even sounded like they knew something about the gates… But this was only the tip of the iceberg, he was sure.

Mom threw her arms around Daisuke's waist. " You must be so happy! " she squeaked.

" Choking! " gasped Daisuke. Quickly, mom let go. He took a deep breath. Shamelessly ignoring the statement, he rubbed his sides with a preoccupied expression. " Don't be so… exuberant, Mimi-san. Your new neighbors might get ideas. "

" You're no fun, you old man! " Mom taunted, puckering her lips.

" I haven't even finished. I visited the road itself, but discovered nothing new. But once I got home, I found something in the laundry! "

" It must not have been from anyone you know, then, unless they wanted to wait months for you to find it, " Mom sneered.

" Mimi-san, please, can you be serious for just five minutes! " Daisuke sighed, long suffering.

Mom held up her hands in mock defeat. " All right, all right. What was it you found, Old Man-san? "

Daisuke must have thought it wasn't worth responding to the last taunt. And, knowing his mom, Gen suspected it wouldn't have gotten mattered if he did, either. " I'm not sure exactly what it was, but it resembled a Digivice. "

" One of the Digimon might have taken it through the gate, then? " It must have been Mom who said this, but the voice seemed a bit off. Gen had had this feeling before.

" I don't know. " Daisuke scratched his head sheepishly. " But while I was looking for you, some punk stole it. He jumped out of nowhere and attacked me… "

"Hah! That wouldn't have happened to Mimi! " There was the odd voice again- and this time, Gen was sure it belonged to an unseen speaker. There was no other logical reason for his Mom to refer to herself in the third person. She nodded as this was said.

" If Veemon was still here, we might have caught the crook, too! " Daisuke countered hotly, sending chills down Gen's spine.

" But seriously, then, " spoke Mom thoughtfully. " Do you think the man who robbed you was working for someone? Someone who doesn't want us to have that object? "

" You mean someone like Myotismon? Or… Apocalymon? I'd thought about that, too. But we know too little to jump to conclusions. That's why I wanted to come here in the first place- If Digimon are in the Real World again, it might not be safe for any of us to be alone. "

" So you must not have come by yourself, either? " Mom probed, leaning forward with one long fingernail to her lips.

" Miyako-chan and Hawkmon-san are here, too. " Daisuke squirmed under Mom's scrutiny. " Actually… Miyako-chan is the one paying for all this… "

Mom straightened back up triumphantly. " Aha! And I'll bet this was all her idea, too! "

" Everyone agreed… " Daisuke moaned like a little boy, grimacing. He paused, blinking, and tried to regain a little dignity. " Eh… I can't stay long, got to make hotel arrangements and stuff… I'll be back."

Mom grabbed him by the arm. "You'll do no such thing, Daisuke-kun! We have plenty of room to spare- and staying at our house will be much safer, if you're right! "

" Yeah, it's the least we can do! " chimed the third voice.

Daisuke hesitated, his hand on the door. " No, you must be going through enough trouble with moving and all… Oh, all right! "

--------

…Night. Nagainamon, having De-digivolved around sundown, still claims the bed, sleeping with her entire body under the covers. Kim curled up on the floor, pulling the beanbag chair over herself like a heavy blanket. Her Digivice lay nearby, wrapped lovingly in a red scarf.

Some time after they had both gone to sleep, a glow lit up outside the window, casting upside-down shadows on the one, over trimmed backyard tree. In response, the Digivice screen began to glow with a lively light. Though the device had no visible speakers, a voice issued tentatively from it.

The voice said, "Nagainamon does not desire to admit it, but the shape she took today is not her natural Digivolution. She has had a life long before she met you. If you care about her, you will learn more about it."

And then it was quiet again.

--------


	16. Digital Stories

I'm so sorry… This time I have no excuse for my lateness. Hopefully this chapter adds enough to the mystery to make up for being so long in coming.

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Digital Stories**

Raiden breathed a heavy sigh. Whatever Kusabana no Gensanchi was, it felt sweet and welcoming and full of subtle life. She and Imon would be safe in this beautiful place.

Behind her, she felt Sunflowmon's presence recede. "I will leave you now," spoke the dry voice. Raiden didn't bother to watch the plant-like Digimon leave. "Mingle. Others will tell you of life here."

"Let's go," urged Imon, hopping towards the gently rustling crowd. "I am immensely curious."

Nearby, a cluster of flowers leaned against a craggy tree trunk. They had wide pink flowers, with a curlicue poking out of the top. Each had two long leaves, which split into three purple fingers near the end. The flowers bobbed, and began to encircle Raiden, waddling on stumpy green feet.

As they got closer, Raiden smelled their overpowering stench. She staggered, and tried to hold her breath. No good- the smell was already trapped in her nostrils. Her Digivice displayed a single such creature. "Palmon (rookie), is a mutated palm tree. It is protected by its smell, which becomes even more unbearable when it uses its Stinking Attack." The Palmon joined hands, and lifted their bulbous heads. Raiden could now see their faces clearly- large emerald eyes, and a toothy mouth below.

Raiden noticed she was separated from Imon. Where was he? One of the Palmon carried a string of flowers. It walked toward Raiden, whose eyes watered as the smelling bloom came directly under her nose. Palmon stood on its toes, and managed to slip the wreath over Raiden's head when she sagged. She couldn't remember how long she could hold her breath, but it couldn't be much longer than this. "On behalf of the official Kusabana no Gensanchi welcoming committee," each of the Palmon sang, "We cordially welcome you to our humble home."

The floral Digimon began to turn counterclockwise in their circle. Their movements grew faster and faster. Raiden could find no memories to explain what they were doing. She was afraid, and the Palmons' smell was giving her a headache, whether or not she could breath. Not taking time to worry about their safety, she charged through their circle, and staggered around the edge of the settlement, away from the crowd.

After a few seconds, she completely lost her balance and fell on her side, sliding an inch or two from her momentum. The wreath of flowers broke off her neck- but the petals, oddly, weren't crushed. The earth was surprisingly cool, and the dirt felt powdery and pleasant. Raiden lay still, recovering her breath.

Imon's voice came from somewhere just beyond Raiden's field of vision. "Get up off the ground, Raidenmon. It's dirty."

Raiden moved slightly, and caught a glint of metal out of the corner of her eye. Imon could possibly be the only metal thing in the whole place. She sat up the rest of the way, and smiled at the tiny creature. He was sheltering in a shadowy doorway, crowded with jars of tame herbs. The hut was decorated with pictures of Digimon leaping joyously into the air, surrounded by a yellow glow raining from the sky, and a green glow that seemed to be coming from the ground. Inexplicably, Raiden became annoyed that Imon had escaped trouble.

"Come in here. There are some very nice Digimon who can answer our questions."

The hut was only about five feet tall, and the door three feet high. Raiden hesitated for a moment, before crawling in. Within was very dim. Sheaves of dry plants completely covered the walls, filling the room with spicy aromas. But this smell wasn't bad. In fact, Raiden was glad for it, as it forced the last of the Palmons' odor out of her nose.

A single beam of crisp light shone down on a straw mattress in the middle of the room. Near the mattress, a tablecloth was thrown on the dirt floor, and various wooden cups and tools were spread upon it. Someone, shape indistinct in the darkness, was working with the tools. It rustled loudly when it moved. It spoke to the person hovering beside it in a dry, cracked voice, and the assistant briskly snapped some herbs off of the wall, and brought them back to the workplace.

"This is Raidenmon," Imon announced to the pair. "She's my partner."

Raiden's Digivice lit up. It first showed a grayish Digimon draped in a sackcloth robe. Its face looked like a bag with buttons sewn on for eyes, and a stitched mouth that was coming undone. It wore a pointy hat- a bundle of straw, splayed at the bottom, tied together with red thread. Instead of hair or hands, there were merely sloppily tied bundles of herbs. "Brujamon (champion)," she was called, "a rag doll come to life through the power of witchcraft, is finely in tune with the forces of nature. Her Coma Brew puts victims into a sleep from which they might never wake!"

Immediately after that, it displayed a Digimon almost identical to Palmon, except for a purple flower, and red 'toes'. This was, "Aruraumon (rookie), a giant alraune plant! One day it got fed up with merely growing, and got up and walked. If it doesn't like you, it may attack with Nemesis Ivy or Hungry Hand."

"Hello to you too, Raidenmon," the dry voice said. It sounded grandmotherly, Raiden thought, and, hearing it, she could almost remember what a grandmother was.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," added the assistant. Its voice was high and sweet.

"Imon says you're going to answer our questions," Raiden said, only wondering afterward if that had been polite. The assistant crossed its arms.

The creature with the old voice set down her tools, and stepped into the light. Brujamon looked exactly like the Digivice described- Raiden was amazed by its accuracy. The witch doll Digimon sat down on the mattress, her robe billowing. "I have never been beyond the walls of Kusabana no Gensanchi, and do not hope to know what it its like. About my home, however, I know all there is to know."

This statement clicked in Raiden's mind. "So you're like Imon," she blurted. Imon gagged, rocking forward in alarm.

Brujamon shook her head, which swing unnaturally. "I do not know your friend. But perhaps he would not like me to know?" The stitched mouth opened and closed as she spoke. Raiden wondered how a doll stuffed with herbs could be able to speak with such a human voice.

"What is this place?" Imon asked quickly. Raiden shut her mouth, indignant that he'd stopped her from talking.

"Ahh…" Brujamon sighed happily. "Where to begin…"

"This is a safe haven for all plantlike Digimon. We can work, or make merry, or do whatever we please, without fear of Lilithmon's empire," supplied the assistant. Following Brujamon's example, it moved into the light and kneeled on the mattress.

Raiden quickly clapped her hands over her nose. After a few seconds, though, she relaxed. The Digimon looked like Palmon, but she couldn't smell it at all. "…The herbs must hide the stink!" She said in surprise.

Aruraumon scowled briefly. "I'm not one of those saucy Palmon. And I definitely don't stink like one."

Brujamon laid a hand on Aruraumon's shoulder. "It is not the job of a healer to judge," she told her apprentice. "Keep your prejudice to yourself." Aruraumon closed her eyes solemnly, as if struggling with some inner demon.

"And you shouldn't be so rude, either, Raidenmon. Think of other people's feelings!" Imon, not to be outdone, scolded Raiden.

Raiden shook her head frustratedly. "I don't know how… I can't remember…"

"Excuses, excuses."

The witch doll Digimon picked the threads of conversation back up. "Kusabana no Gensanchi was founded by Cherrymon, the true ruler of the forest. He knew that the invading powers were stronger than his own, and so he rallied the forest dwellers to build the walls that surround us now. With everyone protecting one another, we are strong enough to resist the Factory… as well as many older enemies."

"But do not think we are a people who live in fear. Aside from a few sentries, we normally go about our lives happily here. Here there is sun and water, and the ground is clean. We keep all crafts alive in our houses."

"A beautiful speech," said Imon appreciatively.

Brujamon nodded. "It is also said in the old stories that the spirit of the forest was born here. All plantlike Digimon feel a bond with this place."

"But we don't believe in the old stories, do we?" asked Aruraumon rhetorically, turning its head on its side, with an odd expression. Something sent an excited tingle down Raiden's spine.

"No. A healer must focus on the present, nor ever believe that anything is predestined. I love Kusabana no Gensanchi not because of what I am, but because of what it is. No other form of love is as true." As Brujamon spoke, Aruraumon nodded, as if it had heard it all before.

Raiden smiled, and leaned back on her hands. Her hair brushed softly against her arms. "What are these stories? I've never heard them." she asked eagerly. Imon gave her a warning glance: Don't say too much, or they might realize you're human.

"The stories are… very old, and very long. It would take days to recite them all. They concern the creation, destruction, and rebirth of the Digital World. The most famous, the Story of the Sunset, is said to be the only data surviving from the original Digital World. Although, it has become very confused by static through the ages, and its true meaning may well be lost." Brujamon, too, leaned back, gazing through the hole in the roof.

"So how does the story go?" Raiden urged impatiently.

"In short, it is about a world before the dawn of life as we know it. Other beings lived there, mysterious entities made of an equally mysterious… thing… that transcended information. It was a changeable world; love could suddenly become hate, knowledge could suddenly become ignorance. And that is what happened.

"Many were deleted- and somehow, there was nothing of them left over to become an egg. Because of this, there was soon almost no one left at all. One of the last beings became crazed with loss, and decided that the only way for the world to be preserved was for everyone to leave it." By this point, Brujamon seemed to be getting into the story in spite of herself and her modern outlook.

"He took all the data that had been held captive within the world's cities. Until then, each idea had been kept separate, so that it remained shapeless. But this being set it all free, and it mixed together to become our world.

"The story goes on to explain how their cities crumbled. Parts of their world vanished into the void, as ours separated completely. 'Like a birdmon released from its cage,' it is described. The rest of the inhabitants of the 'Real World', as it is called from then on, are ordered to leave in the gates that formed. The story doesn't say if they did or didn't. But that's where it ends." Brujamon took a deep breath.

"Some people actually do believe in this stuff," Aruraumon snorted, crossing its arms. "I tell them, the finest scientists in the Digital World have proved that anything without a name and definition cannot exist. But some people just like to believe that there's something out there more 'real' than they are. I don't get it."

Raiden couldn't help getting riled at that. Aruraumon had as good as said Raiden didn't exist! She tried not to show it, and contented herself with saying, "If it really was a different world, maybe things worked differently there."

Brujamon nodded politely. "That's a common argument. But I think it's assuming a bit too much. Come; let's talk about something more useful."

"Yes! I agree completely!" said Imon vehemently, jabbing Raiden sharply in the leg. Raiden assumed that the gesture meant something, but wasn't sure what.

She looked down at her own body, and tried to think of a satisfactory definition for it. She couldn't. She knew she came from some other world, though she could remember next to nothing about it. Imon had said chi was much stronger than data… perhaps she came from the Real World. She came from… a fairytale world? But the mons at the factory had talked about her as if she were real. "Are there any other stories about this…Real World?"

This time Aruraumon answered. "No, but, in a few there are humans…"

Raiden's eyes lit up. "What about humans?" she asked, perhaps too quickly.

"We have to go now, Raiden_mon_!" Imon almost shouted, pulling Raiden's leg towards the door. He wasn't strong enough to move her, but Raiden was so surprised that she went after him.

Imon kept hopping until they were a good distance away from the hut. A few thick trees hid them from the rest of the settlement. "I thought I was the baby, not you!" Imon groaned.

"I think you're worrying too much. Those two wouldn't have believed me if I told them! And I badly wanted to know." Raiden jabbed her finger into her palm, prepared to argue.

Imon paused, considering what had been said in the past few minutes. "…You're probably right. My actions probably raised more suspicion, in the end." He rocked bashfully back and forth.

Raiden was almost disappointed that she didn't have to row with her friend. But she was relieved, too. "Yeah, who'd believe I'm a human if I can't even remember… what a human… is…" her voice trailed off.

Imon looked at her shrewdly. "This place is very isolated. There are a lot of things the mons here never got a chance to learn."

Raiden heard him, but she was already heading down her train of thought. She wanted to ask questions, as if it might replace her missing memory. But without her memory, how could she really be sure she wasn't just a mon like the rest of them, with a few special abilities. She flopped down into a cushion of moss, and put her head contemplatively in her hands.

--------


End file.
